Page 104 of The Matchmaker
“Nothing,” she says, patting my shoulder as Adam leads Gemma inside the pub. “Nothing at all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Point your right foot out. That’s…no, the right one. The…there you go. And hold hands now, don’t be shy.” Jenny stands on a little box at the edge of the dance floor, a huge grin on her face as she gets everyone into position. “Just like we went over before. Row one make an arch, and row two go under. And one, two, three!”
Everyone bursts into laughter as the band starts playing, most people immediately going the wrong way and not caring a bit.
The céilí was a good move. Even if most of those taking part don’t know what to do. But they don’t seem too worried about getting it right. In fact, they’re happier when they get it wrong, falling over themselves with laughter, sometimes straight into each other’s arms.
I should be thrilled with the sight. But I’m finding it hard to concentrate. Not when I just want to watch Adam and Gemma all night. I have a perfect view of them from my perch by the outside bar. They haven’t moved from their little spot by the picnic benches. Talking. That’s all they’ve been doing. Talking all night. No kissing, no dancing, no selfies by the wall. Just talking like they’ve only just met. It’s the first time I’ve ever really seen them get along and I mean that. They’ve known each other for more or less their whole lives and, while I have no doubt deep down they love each other, I had assumed that love was platonic like it was for the rest of us. I mean, half the time, they can barely go five minutes without fighting.
It’s only now that I’m starting to think that maybe they were fighting something else.
“You know you’re just staring at them, right?”
I jump as Callum pops up behind the bar, appearing as if out of nowhere.
“Where have you been?” I ask, as he starts clearing away empty glasses.
“Kitchen. Why the long face?”
“I’m busy,” I say. “This is my busy face.”
“Okay,” he says calmly, barely even paying me attention.
“You have bar experience?”
“None at all.”
I tap my fingers against the bar, annoyed that he won’t look at me. “Everyone’s switching their matches.”
“So?”
“SoI matched them.”
“Are people complaining?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the big deal?”
“You don’t get it,” I mutter. I sound as childish as I feel right now, and I don’t know why. Everything was going fine the other day, but between the interview and Gemma and that woman’s hand on his arm…
“Look around, Katie,” Callum says. “Everyone’s having a good time.”
He’s right. In fact, everyone’s having a great time. Nothing but smiles and laughter and even a few captivated looks. Especially from Nush, who’s watching Monica talk with rapt attention like she wants to squish her up and put her in her sequined purse. I turn my back on them, too stubborn to let this go, only to see Callum attempting to open some champagne.
“You’re doing that wrong,” I tell him. “Twist the bottle, not the cork. And you need to hold it at an angle.”
He sighs. “Katie—”
“Whatever.” I slap a hand on the bar and push myself off the stool. “Be mad at me. I don’t care. I know I messed up and I’m sorry, but at least I’m taking this seriously.”
Callum’s barely listening to me as he finally pops the cork, and I catch his pleasant surprise for a second before turning away.
“Where are you going?”
“To dance,” I call back, as another guest immediately takes my place.
