Page 31 of Before You Say I Do
Abby’s brain processed the words, and she nodded. She tried to ignore the whirl of her senses after Jordan’s hot breath had piped into her ears, but she didn’t quite manage it. She waited for Gavin to demonstrate blowing into the top-up tube for the life jacket, and how to locate your light.
When he was finished, Abby gulped back the vodka, wincing as the neat alcohol hit her taste buds. Jeez, alcohol tasted bad on its own. She tried not to imagine the vodka stripping her insides like dried paint from her fingertips, and instead focused on the dull buzz that slowly began to seep through her. She pocketed the whisky in her handbag, and tried to recall how to wrap the life jacket ties around her waist. Who was she kidding? If the plane crashed, she was a goner.
“Gavin, take your seat,” said Michelle over the PA. Gavin promptly disappeared.
This was it, they were about to take off. Abby’s least favourite part of flying. She tugged on her seatbelt to make sure it was secure, then glanced Jordan’s way.
Jordan gave her a smile, then took Abby’s hand in hers and settled their joined limbs on their shared armrest.
Abby almost stopped breathing, fixing her eyes on their hands, before deciding it was too much. She snapped her eyes shut.
“I hope everyone’s ready to fly, because the runway is within sight. Have a great flight everyone.” That was Michelle again, before the PA snapped off.
There were whoops from behind.
Abby couldn’t work out who they were from, and she didn’t much care. All she could hear was the roar of her heartbeat in her ears. The wobble of her body as every muscle she possessed clamped shut. She was on a plane and she was holding Jordan’s hand. The strangest part about it? It was having the desired effect.
Jordan was a calming influence.
As the plane gathered speed and lifted off the tarmac, Jordan squeezed her hand tighter still, and Abby put all of her focus on that, and not on the fact they were now airborne in a metal tube. Abby glanced across at Jordan, catching a glimpse of the outside world getting smaller as the plane climbed.
Big mistake.
She took a deep breath, pulling her eyes to the front. But all the while, Jordan didn’t let go of her hand, and didn’t say a word.
The exact thing she’d always wanted a partner to do, and they never had.
Jordan understood her.
That wasn’t lost on Abby.
Chapter 14
They were stayingat Villa Francois, and it was just as high-end as Jordan had imagined. Not that she was surprised. She’d been to Marcus’s family home. To Marcus’s house on the edge of their estate. Met his mother. Seen how well laundered Marcus’s shirts were. There was a precision and order to the Montgomery family. This wasn’t their house, but Abby had told her it was the house of some good friends who had a love for modern stylings. Those stylings had been very evident when their minibus rolled into the spacious driveway and the group saw the house.
The villa sat in the hills of Super Cannes, the exclusive neighbourhood where all the rich people played. Close to Cannes and the beach, the property came with staff, along with floor-to-ceiling windows where it counted. Plus, of course, the back of the house, the pool and terraces overlooked the incredible Cote d’Azur, its wide expanse glittering below. The inviting pool was big enough to do laps in. There were multiple jacuzzis. There were enough striped, cushioned loungers underneath crisp white umbrellas for everyone. Jordan had no doubt the towels would be extra-fluffy, too. This was a hen do where no detail had been spared.
The towels had been put away by the staff, and the hen party was now back at the villa after the first night out, which had been deemed a success. Relief slid down Jordan as she walked onto the terrace overlooking the pool, tastefully lit with low lights and candles. Below them, the exclusive neighbourhood glittered, and the French Riveria air wrapped itself around them. The air even smelled French, if that could possibly be a thing.
“I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m stuffed.” Abby patted her non-existent belly as she approached the large outdoor table, where Jordan held out a chair for her. She was wearing cute culotte trousers, a green top and wispy chiffon scarf, not unlike a 1950s socialite. The effect wasn’t lost on Jordan.
Abby gave her a smile as she sat. “Thank you, long-lost bridesmaid.”
Jordan performed a curtsy. “Anything for the bride-to-be,” she replied. “Can I get you a drink?”
Someone walked up behind her. “Did someone say drink?” Gloria’s Scottish accent had got thicker as the evening had worn on. “Have the staff gone home?”
Jordan nodded. “They clock off at nine. Seeing as it’s after ten, we’re on our own. But as a bridesmaid, I’m at Abby’s beck and call.”
“You hear that, Delta?” Abby shouted, leaning back in her seat. “Jordan is offering to get me whatever I want because she’s my bridesmaid.”
A hoot of laughter from Delta as she appeared on the terrace, along with the rest of the hen party. “That’s because she’s paid…”
Jordan’s stomach dropped as the words died on Delta’s tongue. She swivelled and eyeballed Delta, but she was pretty sure she couldn’t see her in the dim light. Was Delta going to give the game away on day one?
Delta walked towards them, the rest of the hens behind her. “She’s paying the price for deserting you for all these years. I’ve got Abby a million glasses of wine in the intervening couple of decades that Jordan’s been absent. She’s got a lot of time to make up for.”
Nice save, Delta. Jordan clicked a finger and pointed it in her direction. “She’s got a point. If I get white wine and some glasses, will everyone drink some?”
