Page 42 of One Night Only
I snort and try to get comfortable. The staff put cushions out during the day but at night it’s just the tough wicker backs of the chairs. I close my eyes and lean back. Maybe if I try hard enough, I can forget he’s even here.
It’s impossible of course.
In the darkness, I’m even more aware of him. Every creak of the chair, every time he sets the glass on the table. My imagination wanders as I picture him sweeping Annie into his arms and then I picture him doing the same to me. And this time he doesn’t complain about his bad back and this time Annie isn’t there at all. It’s just us and the very large bed and the ridiculous bathtub that maybe isn’t so ridiculous after all.
“You cold?”
My eyes snap open. “Nope,” I say and take a swig of my beer.
“You don’t want to sit inside?”
“It kind of freaked me out in there.”
“Yeah, the haunted forest we’re staring at is much less scary.”
I tilt my head to see him smiling at me.
“That was really nice,” I blurt. “All that stuff you said to Annie?”
He looks surprised. “It was nothing.”
“Calming the bride before the wedding night is supposed to be my job.”
“You didn’t seem too calm either.” He hesitates. “You didn’t know, did you? About them moving here?”
“No. She didn’t tell me.”
“She was probably terrified to.”
“That’s a bit dramatic.” But I know it’s true. Of course, she was terrified. I wince when I think about all the emails I sent her, all my plans for what we’d do when she moved back. How wonderful it would be. She knew she’d be breaking my heart.
“She was supposed to make everything better,” I finally admit. “Though I suppose that’s too much pressure to put on one person.”
“Better?” Declan asks curiously.
I hesitate, scraping the label off the bottle. I didn’t intend to go down this route with him. But I’m tired and the darkness hides me in an almost confessional way. Like none of this is real.
“It’s just…” I trail off, but Declan says nothing, waiting patiently. “I’ve been a bit stuck recently. I lost out on a promotion at work and it’s kind of thrown me off kilter.”
“I’m sorry.” He sounds like he means it.
“I really thought I was going to get it.” In fact, I was certain I was going to. I’d never been more certain of anything in my life. I’d done my time, ticked all the boxes. Harvey had more or less confirmed as much when he gave me the Grayson Group project. And then…
“They gave it to the boy wonder of the office,” I say. “And I can’t even be mad at him because he’s a nice guy but it’s like I was on a solid track before it happened and ever since then I can’t seem to get anything right.” I take a breath, realizing how tense I am. “I’m sorry about the past few days,” I say. “I’m not usually so—”
“Grouchy?”
I glance at him, offended. “I’m not grouchy.”
“Ah, you’re a little grouchy.”
“Maybe a little,” I mumble. “But only when things make me grouchy.”
“Me, you mean?”
I sip my beer, not answering. He doesn’t sound annoyed, but he doesn’t say anything further. “Aren’t you going to apologize?” I ask.
“For…”
