Page 7 of See You Maybe

CHAPTER FOUR

Dublin—12 years ago

The faces around her blurred, and Olivia felt a hand steady her when she stumbled into a group of men by the bar.

“Steady on girl,” a man’s voice laughed.

Olivia offered a weak smile back, but her stomach churned unpleasantly. What in the world made her think she could keep up with her flatmates and their friends? She should have stopped by the third round of shots that were handed around by the maid-of-honor, but Olivia had felt warm and happily buzzed, and she wanted to fit in.

She’d lost count after that, sipping on a Guinness that Eva—the bride-to-be who Olivia had met for the first time the evening before—insisted was essential on her first visit to Dublin.

This spontaneous trip was completely out of character for Olivia. But, with a week left before she was due back in Atlanta to start her first real grown-up job, she’d given in to her flatmate, Genna’s, enthusiasm.

The mini semester she’d attended at Oxford had wrapped up a few days before, and for the first time in her entire life, Olivia’s schedule was completely free. After years of working her ass off, always pushing herself to be number one at school and building her resume, her future was secure. What might be her dream job was waiting for her when she went home.

When her flatmates invited her to come with them to their friend Eva’s hen party in Dublin, Olivia thought, why not? Like Genna had pointed out, Olivia needed to experience more than just classes in romantic literature while she was there. And, a classic hen party was a must.

However, Olivia had seriously underestimated the women’s tolerance for alcohol. Now, as she was coming back from the bathroom, she was having a hard time spotting the group she was with. You’d think Eva’s giant, fluffy veil and the sash that spelled out BRIDE in silver glitter would be easy to spot, even in a crowded pub. But, it seemed that during the time Olivia had spent in line, waiting for the bathroom, the crowd had doubled in size, and the live, folk music in the corner had ratcheted up the noise making it hard to think.

Shit! Olivia squinted, scanning the crowd for the telltale veil. There it was. Over by the back corner. She worked her way through the crowd, trying not to bump anyone’s drink, her black boots already sticking a bit to the floor.

Olivia successfully reached the group without an alcohol shower and leaned gratefully against the wood-paneled wall, happy to be on the outskirts of the raucous crowd. The only people she knew were her two flatmates, Genna and Amanda, and she’d only met them when she arrived in Oxford six weeks earlier.

The women had all been friendly when she’d met them at the airport, but Olivia was careful not to refer to any by name… because to be honest, they’d begun drinking on the plane, and Olivia wasn’t confident she remembered who was who.

The woman closest to her turned, her dark hair brushing Olivia’s arm. Olivia was standing way too close to her. Bright, blue eyeshadow highlighted her curious eyes. “All right there, luv?”

Pull it together. Don’t be the lightweight American, even if that is exactly what you are.

“Oh yeah. I’m great.” Olivia frowned and moved her tongue in her mouth. The words hadn’t sounded right, but the woman just chuckled and patted her on the arm and turned back to her friends. The floor swayed, and she bumped into the woman again. This time, her eyes were less friendly when they turned back.

Olivia licked her lips, and her eyes passed over the group that had, at some point, become a colored blur. Maybe she should go back to the hotel.

“Where’d Genna go?”

The woman frowned, and several of the other women were now looking at Olivia.

She cupped her hand to ear to hear Olivia better. “Who?”

“Genna.”

The dark-haired woman’s brows furrowed, but it was the blur in a large veil that leaned forward. “Did you lose her?”

Was Genna lost? Olivia tried to make her mouth form the words she wanted, but the room tipped sideways, and she stuck out a hand to catch herself.

“Whoa, lovey. What’s your name?”

The veil leaned close to Olivia’s face, coming suddenly into focus.

That’s not Eva. This bride has red hair.

Olivia’s cheeks burned hot, and she stumbled back.

“I’m so sorry. I should go.”

She felt a hand rub her back. “Did you lose your friends? Can you call them?”

The vague panic that had formed in her chest eased. “Yes. Good idea.” But when Olivia searched through her crossbody bag, her phone was nowhere in sight.

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