Page 13 of One Night Only
Oh boy. “Unless weddings are very different over here, I’m pretty sure you only need Paul to be in love with you.”
“I’m serious,” she groans. “I’ve only met a few of them before and they’re coming from all over the country. I feel like I’m completely outnumbered.”
“Outnumbered? It’s a dinner not a battlefield.”
“I know that,” she says, her voice climbing higher. “But first impressions are important and—”
“Okay,” I say quickly, grasping her hands. “Okay. I will impress. I am great at impressing.” I’d laugh at her if she didn’t look so panicked. “This is supposed to be fun!”
“I know. And it is. It’s just…” She blows out a breath, gazing around the room that a few seconds ago had brought her so much joy. “A lot.”
“I get that. And it’s stressful meeting people. It’s stressful getting married. But the organizing is done. The booking and the decisions and the headaches are done. This is the happiest day…hell, week of your life and you, Annie Dunmore, are going to enjoy it. I’m going to make you enjoy it.”
She sighs, unsure. “Why does that sound like a threat?”
“Because it is.”
But even as she smiles, I know I mean it. I am the maid of honor after all. I have to make sure she has a good time.
I have to make sure nothing goes wrong.
4
Annie ends the hotel tour by bringing me to my room before she heads off to find Paul. If I’m honest, I’m relieved to have some alone time, especially when I finally get the key card to work. Annie put me in a fancy suite across the hall from her and while I’d initially protested, I am now very glad she didn’t listen to me.
A four-poster bed takes up most of room, along with a fireplace, a beige love seat and a large closet. A low coffee table is topped with sunflowers and a glossy booklet detailing the history of the hotel and the area. The main attraction, however, besides the balcony overlooking the forest, is the standalone bathtub next to the windows, situated on its own little platform.
“Ridiculous,” I mutter, testing the faucets to make sure the thing is real.
I unpack and shower (in the adjoining bathroom and not the tub) but my power nap turns into an all-afternoon nap and I wake groggily a few hours later only to stub my toe on the nightstand when I try to get up.
Drinks. Dinner.
I go back and forth on my outfit. I’m not sure how fancy I’m supposed to be. I settle on heels, a fitted dress and my dressing-up jewelry. I go light on the makeup and dry my hair before curling the ends so it looks like I made an effort. I’m a natural mousy brown in the winter but tend to splurge on expensive highlights in the summer and I’m pleased with the caramel shimmer I see as I shake it out.
By the time I’m done, I’m running later than I’d like, so I’m relieved when I meet Paul in the hallway, hurriedly pulling on a dinner jacket.
“Thank God,” he says when he spots me. “It’s much better if I’m late with someone.”
“Don’t tell me you were worried about your outfit too.”
“Work stuff,” he grimaces as we head to the elevator. “Say nothing to Annie. I’m supposed to be on vacation.”
The lobby is full of voices from the nearby banquet room and I try to ignore the sudden bout of butterflies inside.
“A drinks reception,” Paul says. “Even though we’d all be happier in the pub.” His eyes slide to me. “I would say you can escape whenever you want to, but I’ve never known you to be the shy type.”
I smile at the vote of confidence. “I can handle myself,” I say. “Plus, I was promised at least two attractive cousins.”
“Two is it? Do they know this?”
“It will be a wonderful surprise.”
We enter the room, where two dozen or so people have already gathered, mingling over drinks. The only people I recognize are Annie’s parents who stand shyly by the wall, holding small plates of canapés. I know a few of her London friends are coming over for the day of the ceremony but even with them here, I’ll be her only other guest who predates Paul. Another party is planned next year for the American side of the family and, while I didn’t think anything of it when she told me, looking around at all the people now, I begin to understand Annie’s nerves.
I gaze out at the room as Paul plucks two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. Maybe I should have had him draw up a cheat sheet. “Alright,” I say as I take my first sip of the night. “Where do we start?”
“My Aunt Moira and Uncle Padraig,” he says, directing my attention to the couple nearest us. “Their children, all five of them, will be arriving over the next day or two. Their eldest, Connor, is also a groomsman and possibly very interested if you need a distraction,” he adds, grinning at me. “He’ll be here tomorrow. Uncle Harry runs the village pub we’ll be frequenting it a lot over the next few days. He’s talking to Annie’s parents, who you know. There’s my grandmother Jackie, if you could compliment the haircut?”
