Page 9 of Wilder at Heart
She’s openly despised me since I kissed her at uni, but tonight her expression is less horror and more deep discomfort.
‘Romeo.’ She says my old nickname in a flat mutter, but she doesn’t look me in the eye.
I’ll take it she’s seenCharmed in Chelsea,then.
‘You look good.’ She really does. I rake my eyes down her front. The dress fits her like a glove and brings out the blue-green of her incredible Disney eyes. Eyes that earned her her nickname. I remember that much about that evening. We’ve seen each other a few times over the years, at social events where Elle and I have overlapped, but as my cousin’s got more famous, those events have become fewer and further between. And given Nora here makes no secret of her contempt for me, that suits me fine.
‘Thanks.’ Her voice is tight. Hostile, even for her.
‘How come you’re here? Is Elle here?’ I crane my neck around to look for my cousin.
‘No, she’s shooting in Elstree. Your brother and Saoirse have hired me as their wedding planner.’
‘No way! Nice one. Why did I think you were in journalism—weren’t you at theTimes?’
‘I only lasted there a year.’ She fondles the stem of her champagne flute. ‘I did precisely no journalism, but my boss from hell made me plan her wedding. I decided it was a flaky industry and I could do a good job if I stripped out the emotionand added even an ounce of competence. So I quit theTimesand struck out on my own.’
She tilts her chin up defiantly, as if she’s expecting me to laugh at her or call her out on her story, but I don’t.
‘Makes sense. No wonder my brother hired you. Last time I made the mistake of bringing up the wedding, he said all the planners they’d met with were called things like Peony. So I can see him digging your approach.’
‘I like your brother. He doesn’t take any shit, and he knows what he wants. And Saoirse’s lovely.’
Her face softens slightly. Nora’s a piece of work. On the occasions we’ve seen each other, I always feel compelled to wind her up, because she is so goddamn easy to wind up. She takes everything so seriously. But there’s something flat about her tonight. Her usual spark is missing.
‘Saoirse’s a babe,’ I agree. ‘God knows what she sees in my wanker brother.’
‘He’s successful and competent, and that’s attractive. They’re good together.’
She takes a sip of her champagne and I can’t resist a little dig. Probably because she just called my brother successful, competent and attractive. She has no way of knowing this, but the first two adjectives hurt me far more than the third.
‘Drinking on the job?’
She flushes and puts the flute down instantly.
‘I shouldn’t. But God knows, I need a drink just to hold it together.’
Weird. Nora Wilder shouldn’t need anything to hold it together. She’s Little Miss Self Sufficient.
‘You all right, Belle? You don’t seem your usual feisty self.’
Her Disney eyes slide away to somewhere behind me, then back to me. She really is gorgeous. Shame she’s so uptight. The only fun you can have with her is riling her.
‘Jonathan’s here.’ She grabs the flute again and takes a decent slug.
‘Your boyfriend Jonathan?’
Let me tell you right now. Nora’s boyfriend, Jonathan Holmes, is asnooze fest. I played rugby with him at uni - we overlapped on the Blues in my final year and his first year. He was a decent prop, but I avoided him like the plague off the field. He’s a big, gormless oaf. I suspect he may have been hit in the head by a rugby ball one too many times.
I have to lean in closer to hear Nora.
‘He broke up with me just before Christmas,’ she mumbles.
Even I’m not enough of a dick to kick someone when they look like an orphaned kitten.
‘Ah, shit. I’m sorry.’
She can do so much better than him. Though from what little I’ve seen of them together, they weren’t the worst match. I think she liked bossing him around, and he was placid and dumb enough to take it. Tolikeit.
