Page 39 of Christmas Romance Galore!
I nodded. “I did.” More nodding. “But I might have promised them to somebody else.”
Holly looked confused and rightly so.
“What?” She looked like she wanted to scrub out her ears, like she couldn’t possibly have heard right.
Only, she had.
I downed the rest of my drink and grimaced. I really was a terrible person.
“The thing is, I saw Nicola yesterday. And things were fraught. I know she loves country music, and it just came out. I wanted to make her feel better, make the situation better, so it just slipped out. I’m so sorry. But I can take it back, and we can still go. I’ve been meaning to. I just haven’t had the time.”
Holly didn’t say anything. She just breathed deep gulps of air, then stood up, shaking her head. Her jacket was on before any words spilled from her mouth.
“Nicola. I might have known Nicola Sheen would be involved somewhere. You just can’t help yourself, can you? Tori Hammond, whirlwind central. Do you just like drama? Because if you do, you’re doing a stellar job.”
It was like she’d punched me in the face, and frankly, I wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. Holly was being horrible to me, and while I knew I deserved it, it didn’t make it hurt any less. This was Holly. We were more than just friends. We were a unit. We were... I couldn’t find the words to say what we were.
“Holly.” I stood up and put my hand on her arm.
She threw it off abruptly. “Don’t try to brush this one off, Tor, it’s not going to work. You know how much I wanted to go to the Dixie Chicks — you know. Yet you still did this. Incredible. Well, I hope you really enjoy those tickets. I hope they play all the hits, and I hope you don’t feel one ounce of guilt when they play our song — the one we always sing.” She picked up all her bags and brushed past me. “I’m going home. I suggest you don’t do the same for a while as I don’t want to look at your face any longer than I have to tonight. Call your girlfriend, I’m sure she’ll come and meet you.”
“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said, but Holly was already out the door and heading down the stairs to ground level.
I sat back down and ordered another glass of champagne, tapping the bag with Holly’s present.
She’d calm down eventually. She always did.
“It’ll all be fine,” I said out loud to nobody.
But this time, I wasn’t sure it would be. This time, I’d overstepped the mark and what made it worse was I could have covered it up and never told her. But it just slipped out. Now everything was ruined and it was all my fault. If they were giving out gold medals for bad friends, I was about to take the title by some distance.
I stared at my fresh glass of champagne, at the bubbles fizzing to the top, but I couldn’t embrace their jollity.
My mood was sinking so fast, I feared I might fall through the floor at any moment.
Thursday December 15th
I arrived home from work exhausted from the week so far. I’d texted Nicola to tell her the Dixie Chicks tickets were off after my disastrous shopping trip with Holly, but she hadn’t texted me back. I guessed my friendship with Nicola wasn’t going to go anywhere fast now, but after the turmoil of the previous couple of weeks, I was fine with that.
I didn’t know what I’d been thinking in Nicola’s office that day — not much, apart from wanting to please younger me. But my current life was far more important than my past, and I was going to try to be a better person. Now I just had to tell Holly and let her know that our friendship meant the world to me. That she meant the world to me. But that all hinged on her being happy to talk to me, and that might be the trickier sell.
I’d also spoken to my mum the previous evening and told her the whole sorry tale. She was now coming into town on Saturday and meeting me for lunch on the pretext of some Christmas shopping. She hadn’t said much in response apart from dropping in the odd sympathetic platitude, but I expected she was coming to tell me much the same as Holly had on Tuesday. Ever since then, Holly had been courteously polite to me when we’d crossed paths in the morning, but tonight was the first time we’d be home together since Dixie-gate.
I picked up the post from the mailbox in the reception area and got the lift to the fifth floor, punching the button and waiting for it to move. There was a bank statement for Holly, some junk mail from a catalogue for me, plus a handwritten envelope addressed to both of us. I was intrigued.
I ripped open the hand-written envelope just as the lift doors sprung open. I hitched my bag up my shoulder, unlocked our front door and threw my keys down on the shelf in the hallway — they scratched the wall as they landed. Damn. Dropping my bag, I pulled the contents of the envelope free and stopped still, blinking rapidly as I read.
‘Melanie Taylor and Nicola Sheen are pleased to announce their marriage and would love you to be there to celebrate their special day on Saturday, December 31st...’
I stopped and stared.
So she was going ahead with it — that was a good thing. She was engaged after all, and the logical thing for people to do when they were engaged was to get married.
Nicola Sheen was getting married.
I’d known that all along. And I didn’t have an ‘It Should Have Been Me’ feeling about it.
The feeling washing through my bones was 10 per cent betrayal but 90 per cent relief. Nicola Sheen was in the past and that’s where she should have stayed all along. Still, my movements were heavy as I put the invite on top of my keys and turned away from it. Then I hung up my coat, went through to my bedroom and collapsed on the bed.
