Page 80 of The Matchmaker
“We don’t have time for that.”
“Do you want me to—”
“I’ve got this, Nush.”
She smiles at me in surprise, and steps back to join the others. I take one look at the group, cup my hands over my mouth, and shout as loud as I can.
“Everyone, shut up!”
They immediately fall quiet.
“I know this is a setback,” I say. “A big one. But we can’t let it stop us. We can’t let them win. We’re going to move the festival to Kelly’s. I’ll make it work,” I add, as a few people start to mumble. “We’llmake it work. But this will put us behind. So whatever spare time you have, whatever you can contribute, please let me know. Because in a few weeks’ time, we’ve got hundreds of people coming to see us. Hundreds of people who want us to succeed. Glenmill did this because they’re scared. Well, we’re not. We know what we’re fighting for, and that makes all the difference. We can still do this, but only if we work together. So let’s go!”
I start to raise my hands at the last bit, but get embarrassed halfway through, and stop.
Okay, I won’t lie. I thought there might besomecheering. Just a little a bit of cheering. A whoop. But there’s nothing. There are, however, several smiles, along with some firm nods, and as the talking starts up again, it’s with a new air of determination that wasn’t there before.
God, this leadership thing feels great. Maybe I should keep going. Really rev them up. Maybe I should—
“Quit while you’re ahead,” Nush says, reading my mind. “But good job.”
Callum holds his arm out, helping me down, and she lingers by his side, gazing up at him in an appraising, thoroughly Nush way.
“I like men with conviction,” she tells him, and he pauses.
“Thanks.”
“And men with tattoos.”
“Okay,” I say. “Thank you, Nush. He’s taken.”
“Will you add tattoos to my—”
“Yes,” I interrupt. “I will add them to your form.”
Her gaze flicks to his arm with an almost wistful expression, and then she moves away, ushering people back to the pub.
Callum turns to me. “Taken, huh?”
“You got a problem with that, dramatic gesture boy?”
“I’m just not really ready to put a label on—” He laughs as I jab him in the ribs, and quickly pulls me into his side. “No problem at all,” he says, and I lean into him as everyone else starts to leave.
“Do you think this is the right decision?” I ask quietly.
“Do you?”
I glance up at him, searching my heart for any shred of doubt. For any part of me that whispersthis is a mistake. But there’s nothing. Only a warm hum of conviction, stronger than I’ve felt in weeks.
“Yes,” I say. “I do.”
“Well, then,” he smiles. “Where do you want me?”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
There’s a lot of work to do. So much work that I try not to think about it too much. Breaking it down and delegating as best I can. We need to call every hotel and B&B in the area to get what rooms we can. There’s transport to be organized, revised food and drink orders. A clean-up of the village was already underway, but now we had to get Kelly’s organized too. But before any of that, there was one crucial part to get sorted. Because now that we have guests coming to our matchmaking festival, it means we really need a matchmaker.
“I don’t want to just be a tick in the diversity box now,” Granny warns, as I sort the forms into piles. Everyone who bought a ticket filled out the questionnaire online, and while it wasn’t like they’d be tied to their matches all weekend, it was part of the fun of coming. “I’m not going to be the token old person.”
