Page 9 of The Last Saturday In July
Crap, she couldn’t be serious. Jess waited for Simon to say something, but he just nodded vaguely. She spoke up herself, trying to sound reasonable. ‘Would it not be rude to ask them at this stage, Úna?’
‘Oh gosh, no. The Feely-Martins never stand on ceremony. Completely down-to-earth people like us.’
Jess took a mouthful of wine and coughed as it went down the wrong way.
‘Are you all right, Jess?’ Simon’s eyebrows disappeared under his fringe.
‘Yes, fine thanks.’
She couldn’t really say no. Once Úna had recovered from the shock of what she considered a rather sudden engagement, she and Edward had insisted on helping out financially. ‘I know it’s traditional for the Father of the Bride to foot the bill, so I trust we’re not offending you,’ Edward had said to Tom, peering over the top of his glasses. ‘Úna and I are delighted that Jess will be our daughter-in-law, and it would be an honour to help out.’ And that was that.
‘But, you see, there’s a problem, Úna,’ said Jess. ‘We already have a hundred people. The hotel can’t fit anymore.’
Úna waved her hand airily. ‘Well, they’ll just have to squash them in, or else we leave two other people out.’
Jess gaped at her. ‘But everyone’s already been invited.’
‘Anything is possible, Jess, and these people are very important.’ She patted Jess’s knee. ‘Now, I do believe the casserole is ready. Don’t worry, if the hotel is dreadfully strict about numbers, you can always tell a couple of your friends to pop along a bit later instead.’ She stood and smoothed down her long, pleated skirt. ‘These things can always be sorted.’
Maybe the hotel could squeeze in another couple of people. Although when they’d chosen Burlington House, she remembered the events manager emphasising their boutique experience. Which, Jess knew, was hotel-speak for small numbers.
She’d wanted to marry in Dublin where their family and friends were, and where she could have got a staff discount in one of the Charleston Group hotels. But Úna, for all her Dublin affectations, was from Mayo, and she and Edward had married in Ballygobbin.
It was Úna who’d suggested they take a look at Ballygobbin’s quaint village church and the nearby four-star Burlington House, which, in fairness to her, was far better value than a boutique hotel in Dublin.
Simon pulled Jess aside before they joined his parents in the dining room and pressed his mouth close to her ear. ‘Let’s not stay too late.’
She turned and met his eyes, trying not to panic. An early night was Simon’s shorthand for sex. Not that long ago, she could hardly wait to get the man out of his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Right now, all she wanted was to put her feet up with a glass of wine and a giant bar of Cadburys, and watchCelebrity Come Dancing. Guilt was a total mood killer.
‘Jess?’ Simon gave a tiny wink.
Jess managed a wobbly smile. ‘Sounds good.’
Maybe if she just kept reminding herself how incredibly lucky she was, she’d eventually forget about the hen weekend.
It would be like it had never happened. In fact, she remembered that Declan had mentioned something about going back to Switzerland, so there was no chance she’d ever run into him again.
Úna caught her eye. ‘Jess, do you feel well? You’re quite flushed.’
‘Um, it’s just the wine. Excuse me.’
Jess slipped out of the room, relieved to escape for a few minutes. In Úna and Edward’s pristine black-and-white tiled guest bathroom, she ran the cold water over her wrists, closed her eyes, and tried a few deep breaths. God, yoga was completely useless in these situations.
She opened her eyes and stared at herself in the bevelled mirror above the basin.
Chill out, Jess. It was probably completely normal to freak out after what she’d done. In fact, if she wasn’t freaking out, she’d be some sort of sociopath. But she had to stop doubting her relationship with Simon: they loved each other. Ever since they’d met at her cousin’s wedding, Simon had been a steady, dependable part of her life.
Which, after a number of shitty relationships, had been sexy and reassuring.
And although she’d hesitated for a moment when he’d proposed, she’d quickly reminded herself that marrying Simon was a smart, grown-up choice. Kate was right: she was lucky. Her life was almost perfect. And it would be utterly perfect when she married him at the end of the month. She’d be a fool to let anything interfere with that.
Chapter 5
LOOKING after a celebrity wedding would be exciting, Jess decided the following day. Everyone loved a wedding, and a celebrity one would help her kick-start a successful, long-term marketing plan for the hotel. It was quite simple: if Chelsea and Leo were happy to overlook Linford’s unfortunate wedding history, everyone else would follow.
She’d start with a professional wedding photo-shoot at the castle. It was the ultimate romantic combination, and they could use photos and video footage on their website and across their social-media platforms. She rang Ian’s direct line.
‘Jess!’ Ian’s voice boomed down the phone. ‘How can I help?’
