Page 98 of Wilder at Heart
He grins. ‘Hotel stuff. I’m tapping Evelyn for some info. See you when you’re done.’
As he saunters away, Olive removes her snout from Charlie’s bum and sits, staring forlornly at his retreating figure, his MacBook tucked under his arm.
I know how she feels.
‘You’ve got a keeper there,’ Evelyn remarks as we walk over to the Oast House. ‘Charlie.Heel. He looks at you like he can’t believe his luck, and he’s pretty easy on the eye too, if you don’t mind my saying.’
‘It’s not how it looks.’ To my horror, my eyes prick with hot tears. ‘He’s not—he doesn’t want to settle down.’ Even as I say the words, they seem wrong. Inaccurate. Undeserved. But I don’t have a better way to articulate Theo’s objectives in life. ‘Not here, anyway. I think—I think he’s going to end up in New York, doing a project for his family.’
The idea of him leaving, being thousands of miles away, sucks the breath out of my lungs, for some reason. A world without Theo in it will be a world drained of colour. Of life.
‘Oh, honey.’ Evelyn puts a hand on my arm. ‘And you wouldn’t go with him?’
‘He hasn’t asked me.’ It’s true. He hasn’t asked, because it hasn’t even been a consideration between us. Theo’s on a journey to prove himself to his family. He has a glorious adventure ahead of him. Meanwhile, I’m not the adventurous type (not outside of Theo Montague’s bedroom, anyway). I actually want precisely the opposite of adventure. Which means that what Ineedis precisely the opposite of Theo.
Jonathan, to be exact.
No matter how confused my sex organs seem to be about the situation.
‘Oh.’ Evelyn visibly deflates. ‘I wouldn’t have guessed that. He seems so in love with you. Are you sure you guys can’t find a way to make it work?’
I get it. She’s mistaking his emotional sluttiness, easy affection and sound acting skills for something deeper. It’s an easy mistake to make, believe me. I’ve allowed those things to confuse the hell out of my subconscious, too.
I shrug. ‘The chemistry is great. He’s gorgeous, obviously. But we want very different things. We’re such opposites—it could never work.’
‘It sounds like me and Angus.’ Evelyn holds open the Oast House door for me and our furry friends to pass through. ‘Myhusband. When I met him, I was still reeling from finding out I’d been married to a gay man for a decade, and I was as anxious to preserve my work partnership with him as I was to dissolve my marriage. I was desperate to get back up to London and restore my public brand, and Angus was a quiet guy who wanted a quiet life doing really great work on this farm.
‘In the end, though, we found a way to be together without my having to give up any of my ambition, because the pull was just too strong. We weren’t an obvious fit, but I fell in love with him, so what can you do? And, as it turns out, being complete opposites has made life far more colourful. He grounds me, and I perk him up.’ She shrugs.
‘And it works?’ I ask.
‘It more than works.’ She turns the full wattage of her smile on me. She really is stunning. ‘We’re deliriously happy. Everything came together so perfectly. I really think it was fate.’
I envy Evelyn her certainty, even if it is driven by hindsight. And more than that, I envy her her happiness.
The Oast House is jam-packed, the air full of the contented hum of conversation. We sit in a sun-filled corner and work through the details of the wedding weekend. Delegating such a sizeable chunk of the workload to Siobhan’s team makes my life far easier, but it’s still by far the biggest, highest-budget event I’ve overseen, and I want it to be absolutely perfect for Miles, Saoirse and Bea.
As the dogs curl up at our feet in a sweet little black and gold ball, Evelyn and I cover off the schedule for the weekend, including but not limited to the set-up schedule for the Walled Garden, the Friday night rehearsal dinner, the Saturday morning preparations, the wedding breakfast, the security detail (Miles has some pretty high-profile friends) and the Sunday barbecue brunch and pool party.
We check the list of guest accommodations for the millionth time and pour through my budget. There are a couple of line items the farm hasn’t yet confirmed, and I want them squared off before we get any further. Some of the guests are arriving from overseas via private jets, and the farm is providing car transfers where necessary. Some are arriving by helicopter from London, and we confirm the coordinates of the field that doubles as a helipad. Inevitably, the highest maintenance guests are the ones that have left it the longest to confirm, assuming that we’ll cater to their every whim, so crystal-clear communication with Evelyn’s team is vital.
Press won’t be allowed—Miles and Saoirse are using the farm’s own photographer, Clara Molloy, who’s highly acclaimed, and select images will be released to the press after the fact.
In short, there are a million moving parts jostling in my head, but as we work through the spreadsheet and check off my outstanding questions, I grow calmer. Everything is in hand. I’ve wrangled this massive beast into a million line items that I can quantify and tick off. Control.
When we’ve covered off the bulk of the admin, Evelyn leans back in her chair and narrows her eyes.
‘You’re seriously good at this.’
‘Thanks.’ I flush. ‘I mean, having Siobhan on board makes it a lot easier?—’
She tuts. ‘No, no. This is a mammoth task. Don’t deflect. When this goes off beautifully, that’s on you. Sure, Siobhan will have the place looking stunning. That’s her gift. But you’ve corralled this entire shit-show into something slick and manageable. I should be having a heart attack about now, but you have it all in hand. So own it.’
She’s right. I’m proud of how it’s looking. Obviously, there could be a huge storm or a security threat or any manner offuckups, but I’ve done a good job and I can afford to take a minute to pat myself on the back.
‘Thanks.’ I bow my head. ‘That means a lot.’
‘You know, most people don’t realise wedding planning is far more of a left-brain endeavour than a right-brain one. But you have this running like a Swiss watch. What are your plans if and when your gorgeous boyfriend jets off Stateside? Do you have enough to keep you busy?’
