Chapter 22
23 hours until the wedding
Ashforth Castle, once the ancestral home of nobility, is now a luxury hotel and Condé Nast Top Ten destination where people with way too much cash can live out their wildest fairy-tale wedding dreams.
I press my nose to the glass as the cab takes us down a tree-lined drive framed by rolling green pastures and manicured gardens. At the end of the drive, spiraling turrets covered in tendrils of ivy peek above the treetops. I can’t believe this is where Allison is getting married. In a literal castle. I turn to Jack, eyes wide, mouth agape.
“I don’t think we’re at Mrs. Poyevich’s inn anymore,” he whispers.
We share knowing smiles, the kind that make me think—if only briefly—that maybe we really can be friends.
After we’ve collected our luggage, we walk up the carpeted stone steps and into the gilded lobby, where crystal chandeliers hang from ornate wood-paneled walls and plush, velvet armchairs surround a crackling wood-burning fireplace.
A doorman in coattails and a top hat tips his brim to us and ushers us toward the front desk. “Checking in?” he asks in a thick Irish accent.
I’m about to respond when out of the corner of my eye I spot my mom tottering toward us in square heels and a too-tight skirt. From afar she looks perfectly made-up, but as we get closer, I see the web of stress lines stretched across her forehead, and the messy flyaway grays dotting her scalp tell me she’s been running nervous fingers through her hair.
“Ada,” she says, wrapping me in a tight hug as though I’ve just returned from war. “We’d almost given up on you.”
“Hi, Mom.” I hug her back, inhaling the familiar scent of cloves and lemon soap.
“We were so worried! Are you okay?” She pulls back as though trying to account for missing limbs.
“We’re fine,” I tell her, catching Jack’s eye. “Everything’s fine.”
“Good. Good.”
She forces a tight smile, which only accentuates the creases under her eyes. I doubt she’s slept much since they arrived, and I feel an instant stab of guilt for not being here sooner.
“How’s everything been?” I ask. “Anything I can help with?”
“Everything’s fine. Well…” She pauses, lips squeezing like she’s tasted something sour. “Not fine . I’ve had to go over the dinner menu three times since yesterday. And it looks like it might rain tomorrow, but I haven’t heard anything about a contingency plan and—”
I place a tender hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m here now. I’ll take care of it.”
Her lips thin into a smile, relief sweeping across her features.
My mom and I have always had a good relationship, mostly because we know our roles. She’s the worrier, and I’m the eldest daughter who knows how to come in and fix things.
“Hello, Mrs. Gallman,” Jack says, stepping out from behind me. “I’m Jack Houghton, Collin’s best man.”
He sticks out his hand and her eyes instantly brighten in a look I know well.
Great. We haven’t been here five minutes and she’s already moved on from contingency plans to assessing Jack as a potential suitor for my daughter.
I should have warned him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Jack.” She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. “And what do you do?”
Cutting to the chase, I see…
“Mom—”
But she waves a hand, cutting me off.
“World’s oldest profession, I’m afraid,” he says with a self-deprecating grin.
“Prostitution?” I supply.
My mom shoots me a death glare.
“Close. Lawyer, actually,” he says, an easy smile spreading over his features.
Her eyes widen like a lioness who’s just caught sight of a zebra. “A lawyer? Really?”
“Okay, well, I think we should get checked in to our rooms so we can change for the rehearsal dinner, right, Jack?” I say, giving his arm a firm tug.
But my mom keeps her eyes trained on Jack, completely ignoring me. “So, Jack, do you have a date to the wedding?”
Oh God. Subtlety has never been her strong suit.
“Uh, no. I don’t.” He gives her a strained smile.
“So your girlfriend couldn’t make it?”
I sincerely wish I could whack her over the head right now.
He coughs out what I can tell is a fake laugh. “No girlfriend.”
“Oh. That’s too bad.” Her mouth twists into an unconvincing pout.
“Mom, we really need to get settled into our rooms…”
“I just wanted to say how thankful I am that you and Ada were able to travel together,” she says, continuing to ignore me. “Thank you for looking out for her.”
“That’s kind of you to say, Mrs. Gallman, but I think we looked out for each other.” His eyes snap to mine, holding my gaze with a kind of heated intensity that makes my skin prickle.
I wonder if he’s thinking about last night. Because it’s suddenly all I can think about.
“Please, call me Christine,” my mom says. “Now, come on. Let’s get you to your rooms. I’ve already got your room keys.”
She ushers us through the lobby and past a decadent tearoom where a harpist serenades diners.
“Sorry about that,” I whisper to Jack as we follow a few steps behind her. “You can just ignore her.”
“She seems nice,” he says, eyes sparkling in the low lobby light. “Very… enthusiastic .”
“Careful,” I warn. “If you get her to like you too much, she’ll try to set us up.”
His brow tenses, considering. “That depends. Are you guys one of those families that do fun runs on holidays?”
“We’re not monsters, Jack.”
A grin ripens across his mouth, but there’s a hesitancy behind it like he’s aware the teasing is a mask, one we’re currently both employing.
My mom leads us past a grand staircase, toward a set of elevators, and I quicken my pace to keep up.
“Jack, you’re in three ten.” She hands him his room key. “And Ada, you’re in three-oh-four, just down the hall.” She hands me my key, then leans in and whispers, “Is there something going on between you two?”
My face bursts into the heat of a thousand suns. “Mom!”
She looks at me like I’m an avocado that’s about to go from ripe to rotten at any moment. “What? I’m just asking. He seems like a nice young man.”
Clearly, Allison hasn’t told her about the Slovakian figure skaters.
“No,” I whisper back. “There’s nothing going on.”
“Are you sure?”
“ Pretty sure ,” I say through gritted teeth.
Her face falls, but just as quickly, it’s swallowed back up with a determined smile. “In that case, there’s someone I want you to meet later. You remember Tom, right? The neighbor’s son?”
“Not really.”
“I texted you about him earlier. The engineer.”
“Oh. Right.” My gaze flits to Jack, who is either very absorbed in the zipper on his suitcase or pretending not to listen.
“He just bought a house, you know.” My mom continues. “He’s looking for a wife. Very stable man.”
“Mm. Nothing gets me hot and bothered like stability .”
She gives me an aggrieved look. “He’s a nice young man, Ada.”
Talking to Stable Tom is pretty much the last thing I want to do, but I know it will make her happy and when it comes to making it through this wedding weekend, it’s optimal that I keep everyone happy.
“I’ll talk to him,” I tell her, corralling my mouth into something resembling a smile.
She beams. “Great! I just know you’ll hit it off!”
Doubtful.
I wave my mom off, telling her we’ll see her at the rehearsal dinner, then Jack and I step inside the elevator.
“So, Tom, huh?” he asks as the elevator lurches upward.
I shake my head, exasperated. “We haven’t even been here five minutes and my mom’s already trying to play matchmaker.”
“But didn’t you hear? He’s stable .”
Jack’s eyes catch mine, flashing with a kind of awareness, but I don’t know if he means it as an innocuous tease or a subtle hint that I might have better luck with Stable Tom than him. Either way, I look away, fighting back the tightness in my chest.
Not a moment too soon, the elevator dings and we step into a plush carpeted hallway.
“I’m going to change, then I’ll meet you in the lobby so we can go into the rehearsal dinner together, okay?”
“You don’t have to wait for me,” I tell him, not wanting him to think he’s still obligated to hang out with me. We’re here. We made it. The terms of the deal have been fulfilled.
“I want to.”
“Oh…” I search for a loophole, something to mark this as the moment our journey ends, but I come up short. “Okay,” I say at last. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes?”
He nods and silence stretches between us, waiting to be filled, but neither of us does. I turn toward 304.
“Ada?”
I hate the way my heart beats hopefully against my ribs as I turn back to face him. “Yeah?”
He opens his mouth then closes it right away. A beat of stillness follows.
“See ya,” he says at last.
“See ya,” I repeat. Then I turn and walk toward my room, feeling his gaze on me the entire way.