Page 7 of Fighting Mr. Knight

“Just tonight?” I mutter.

Gerry shrugs and walks away.

“There’s my Bonnie,” Dad mumbles as his head tilts down. I’m shocked he can even identify me. “My girl’s an architect,” he roars to a group of guys in the beer garden, who look like estate agents, and I die a little inside.

I turn to Uncle Pat, who thankfully doesn’t seem to be on the same level of shit-faced. “What the hell? How did he get so smashed?”

Pat looks at me wearily. “Tonight’s your parents’thirtiethwedding anniversary.”

Except it’s not.

I let out a heavy breath. “I’ll help you get him home.”

I never realised the date. I don’t even think Mum did either, but then again, she’s living her best life with my stepdad, Phil.

Dad never found anyone else after Mum. He seemed to get stuck in time.

Dad shuffles along beside me, mumbling something about the state of the country and the Conservative Party and other ramblings I have to listen to on a frequent basis.

My cheeks fill with shame as people avert their gaze.

Shame. I’m ashamed of my dad.

After all he’s done for me and all he’s been through.

Dad pats my shoulder softly. “I love my girl.”

I hate how he gets emotional when he’s had a drop. I should be back-slapping and ass-licking Bradshaw and Brown. Max will be deducting points from my promotion board for this.

I smile stiffly, feeling like the worst daughter in the world for hating my dad right now.

3

Bonnie

Winning the Lexington project couldn’t have come at a worse time.After a frantic early morning site visit to theMotor Worksfactory and a three-hour drive in heavy traffic, I’m now late for bridesmaid duties.Sean and Kate get married in two days’ time and I’m now on the clock.

“Jesus.” Nisha glances at me from the passenger seat. “What is this place, Britain’s most haunted castle? It looks the perfect scene for a murder, not a wedding.”

I shift gears and my dinky city car stalls on the gravel.A grey-stoned eye-popping medieval castle where the royal family would feel right at home awaits us at the end of the driveway.

“They’re trying to pull off a Downton Abbey vibe for the cousins coming in from the States. A Ye Olde English wedding,” I explain as we inch deeper into the sprawling estate. “Wow.” My nerves flutter. I’ve never stayed anywhere this fancy before.

“It’s more Jack the Ripper than Downton Abbey,” she mutters.

“I think a few were beheaded here back in the day. It used to be owned by a knight.”

“A knight as in Jack Knight?”

“No.” I grin. “Not that Knight. It’s one of the few plots of land in England he doesn’t own.”

“How much did you say this place is costing us?”

I shake my head. “Oh, you can close your purse. It’s not costing us a penny. Jack and the Lexington Group are footing the bill as a wedding present. Otherwise, we’d be camping on the lawn.” A lot of the Knights seem to work for Jack. Kate’s fiancé, Sean, is a senior construction project manager in Lexington. “You’d think it’shiswedding the way he flashes his cash.” I pause for effect. “Fifteen K.”

Her mouth slackens. “Fifteen grand for three days? That’s a year’s rent in London!”

“Dream a little bigger, love.” I snort-laugh. “Fifteen grand anight.”

---