Page 19 of The Brit and the Bridesmaid
“She came by here,” Caroline said. “And, apparently, you were pretty insistent she make herself scarce.”
“What?” That was ridiculous. He remembered her visit. The Carlisles were there, working out details of some stuffy dinner party they wanted to hold, and he’d been doing his best not tell them how idiotic they were. The owners of Sainsbury House valued the Carlisles’ business and connections and had been quite clear that he was not to do anything to jeopardize that. He’d managed to hold his tongue throughout the meeting, but not without effort.
“She said you kept trying to keep her out of sight of your clients,” Gregory added.
“Actually that part’s true.” He spoke the realization as he had it. “The Carlisles are cold and cruel. They have no qualms about insulting or belittling people they think are beneath them. I couldn’t guarantee they would be civil to her.” He had, in fact, been very much afraid they would be terrible to her. “There was no way on earth I was going to let her be mistreated. The only way to avoid that was to keep her from having to interact with them.”
Both Caroline and Gregory looked surprised, and maybe even a little relieved.
“Then it wasn’t that you were embarrassed to be seen with her in front of important people?” Caroline asked.
“The Carlisles are not important people, At least, not to me. And certainly not as important as Abby.”
Caroline leaned a little closer to his desk, lowering her voice. “Does she know that?”
Does she?“Considering how quickly she decided I was ashamed of her, I’d guess she doesn’t.”
“Show her,” Caroline added.
Show her.He meant to. He simply had to figure out how.
***
Caroline’s wedding was everything any hopeless romantic could wish for. The bridesmaids all wore their 1910s-inspired dresses and only complained about them when the bride wasn’t nearby.
The men looked, to coin Caroline’s phrase, “quite dapper” in their fancy suits and slicked-back hair.
The venue was perfect. The weather was perfect. Everything was nauseatingly perfect.
Abby was in a bad mood but couldn’t seem to shake it. She was happy for her sister; she really was. But watching Matt—she couldn’t bring herself to think of him as Matthew, wantingto remember the version of him she liked best—hover on the edges of every moment of that day only drove the knife of disappointment deeper into her heart. She did her best to look the other way when he came in her line of vision. As the event coordinator, he was everywhere. He was also too busy to talk to her. For that, she was grateful.
She sat at the wedding party’s table through the unending dinner, pretending to enjoy the food and faking a smile. She didn’t hear half of what was said during the toasts. She raised her glass when everyone else did, laughed when the guests laughed. But her heart wasn’t in any of it.
You’ll kick yourself for this later, wishing you’d pulled yourself together for Caroline’s wedding.But all of the well-meaning pep talks in the world didn’t seem capable of pulling her out of her funk.
If Matt hadn’t seemed so great, so close to exactly what she was looking for in a man, she wouldn’t have been so disappointed. He was kind and thoughtful. He got along with his mother, which she thought was a good sign. He wasn’t obsessive about plants like she was, but he liked gardening with her and Barney. He didn’t blow off her passion for flowers and plants and gardens the way so many people did. He’d seemed so... so right.
Maybe you’re blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Maybe you should have answered when he called.
She clapped mechanically as Caroline and Gregory began their first dance, but her mind was miles away. Matt was likely in the kitchen checking on the staff or outside overseeing the pavilion takedown. What she wouldn't have given to have been on Barney's balcony instead, letting the sweet old man cheer her up once more.
Despite her heavy heart, Abby could almost smile thinking of Barney and his stories. She’d never heard anyone talk with asmuch love and adoration as he did about his late wife. Maybe that was what had made her idealize Matt so much. She’d started thinking of him as her Barney, a man who loved her, quirks and all.
The dancing became more general. With fewer eyes focused on the front table, Abby finally felt like she could escape for a moment. She skirted around the room, making her way to the open double doors. The entry hall beyond wasn’t exactly empty, but it felt far less suffocating. She needed someplace quiet, somewhere she could be alone even if for a moment.
“Abby!”
She spun at the sound of her name spoken in an achingly familiar British accent. “Hey, Matt.” Her voice wasn’t entirely steady.
He stood outside the closed door of his office, looking earth-shatteringly handsome in a dark suit. She'd tried to avoid noticing that all day. But those green eyes. They got to her every time.
“I thought you would be... coordinating... something.” The pounding of her heart in her throat made words difficult to come by.
“Actually, I’ve been waiting for you.”
He was waiting for her? Why? That didn’t make sense, not when he had clients and important things to see to. Hadn't he made her place on his totem pole painfully clear?
“I don’t understand.”
