Chapter Two
Oliver
A utumn sun filtered through the blinds, casting a pale glow across Oliver’s ordered desk. Despite his perfectly arranged workspace, the office was small, and felt suffocating, much like Glenbriar itself. Divorce papers and bitter disputes were his daily diet. Over the years, he’d grown a thick skin, but it was tiring going over people’s bitterness again and again.
As he reviewed his latest divorce settlement, his gaze drifted to a framed photograph on his desk: a picture of his late mother and him as a young child. He ground his teeth and picked at his shirt sleeves. The pain of her loss was never far away, a reminder of what happened when you let love get the better of you. What was love if not something to raise you up, only to slam you deep underground the next moment? The high wasn’t worth it… Not when you understood the lows the way he did.
‘You’d have hated this, Mum. The whole damn business,’ he murmured, running his fingers through his jet-black hair. What would she make of his reputation for being thorough, relentless, and, some might say, unfeeling? Maybe she’d understand. It was a defence mechanism he’d perfected over the years. Or maybe she’d tell him to shake things up. His life had got so static.
He read through the case files, realising as he got to the bottom of the first page that he hadn’t taken any of it in. His mind had drifted to Finlay’s upcoming wedding. Why had he allowed himself to get embroiled in that? Only as a kindness to his friend – his only friend. The one who’d stuck by him like a brother. God only knows why. I’m sure I don’t deserve such loyalty. But being best man was nothing more than a formality. These days, it wasn’t like he actually had to do anything. Finlay’s sister could arrange all the silly stuff she was rabbiting on about the other night and he could turn up at the wedding, hand over the rings and be done with it. Hopefully they wouldn’t require his professional services any time after that. He wished them a long happy marriage, not like the sad cases he got through his doors.
Ugh . He threw himself back in the seat and tugged at the blind. A tree outside the window swayed in the breeze, and its constantly moving shadow was irritating. Weddings. He hated them. He’d never forget the first one he ever went to, dressed in a suit that trapped him like a straitjacket. His whole body was on edge, his nerves in tatters. People asking how he was, if he was pleased for his dad, if he liked his new ‘mum’. Except he didn’t have a new mum. No one could replace his mum, and his father remarrying barely a year after her death was a constant source of grief. It infuriated him more than anything in his life.
He shook off the memory, trying to focus on the legal documents before him. He couldn’t afford distractions, especially not now, when the practice was busier than ever. If he had his way, he’d make so many changes, but it wasn’t really his place.
The phone on his desk rang, jolting him from his thoughts. ‘Sterling Family Legal, Oliver Wright speaking. How can I help you?’
‘Hello, Oliver, it’s Nathan.’
‘Hi.’
‘Listen, let me cut right to the quick. I’ve got a big opportunity sitting on my desk.’
‘What opportunity?’
‘We’ve got a potential biggy coming in. High-profile and the client is willing to pay a lot. I’m looking for someone good to take this on and I’m looking your way.’
‘I’ve got a lot on here. My time for helping out will be limited.’
‘I’m not talking about you helping us out. There’s an opening coming up in our London office and the way I see it, your name is written all over it. It’s time to get out of that backwater and get down to the city where you can really shine.’
‘Wow, really? It sounds too good to be true.’ Especially as he’d been thinking about moving on for some time now. His career was going nowhere while he was here. It was about time he at least had a partnership. A high-profile London job could be just the ticket.
‘Well, you’d need to go for an interview, but I had an idea about that. You’ll be heading to London for the annual conference anyway, won’t you? I could see if the boss can arrange for the interview then. What do you say?’
Oliver took a deep breath and glanced out the window. Glenbriar had been his home forever, but did that really matter? It wasn’t like he’d ever been happy or had any ties here. ‘Go for it. Set something up.’
‘Fantastic. I knew you’d be up for it. I’ll let you know more details as soon as I have them.’
Oliver ended the call and refocused on his case. That little interruption was unexpected, but what perfect timing.
Determined to bury himself in work and not let anything else distract him, he turned off his phone and ploughed on until five o’clock. When his alarm went off, he still had work to do, but he stopped. Must try not to let work rule my whole life. It would be so easy to let work take over every hour, and if he succumbed, his life would be even more sterile. If he forced himself to leave at five, it left time for other things. He could cook himself a meal, work out in his home gym, on Friday he watched movies. Sometimes, very occasionally, he dated, but never in the town. He’d travel into Perth, even Dundee or Edinburgh, for casual dates or rare hookups, but they were getting fewer and further between. Nobody really appealed to him…
Well, except her . The one he forced himself not to think about. London would be an easier, more anonymous place. He wouldn’t need to worry about running into women he’d hooked up with and face the ensuing awkwardness in a big city.
He switched on his phone, and it sprung to life with notifications. What the…?
His heart sank as he glimpsed the screen. A long line of missed calls and messages from Hayley. The very person he’d been trying not to think about. What the hell was her problem? And why had Finlay given her his number? He had no intention of engaging in discussions about her endless ideas for those extravagant sten parties. Sten! Honestly, what an utterly stupid name. When she’d first mentioned it, he thought she was talking about something to do with guns. Since when had combined stag and hen parties become a thing? Why were stag and hen parties a thing anyway? They were just frivolous distractions, a waste of time and money.
His hand hovered over the screen. Block her and be done with? But even her tiny profile picture had an effect on his body temperature. She was so picture perfect with the hair, the make-up, the smile. God, that smile.
He slapped the phone down, tidied his desk, and closed his laptop. After packing his case, he signed out at the reception area. Everyone else had already left for the day. The main door automatically locked behind him and he stepped into the paved parking area in front of the old Victorian building that housed the company offices. All this was very provincial, having an office in a building that was formerly a large family town house. The other buildings on the main street were a mix of old and new, but none of the older ones were houses anymore. They’d all been taken over by businesses.
A gust of cool autumn air greeted him and some leaves rustled across the empty parking spaces.
And then he saw her. What was she doing here? His intense effort to not think about her seemed to have summoned her here instead. How twisted could you get?
‘Ah, you do exist.’ Hayley got up from the low stone wall she’d been sitting on. ‘I thought I’d hang about here for a minute or two and see if you emerged.’
‘What do you want?’ His jaw hardened, and he looked away, focusing on the tree that had been irritating him all afternoon. Its roots had outgrown the space it was supposed to be confined to and were cracking their way into the paving slabs. Not very interesting really but it saved him from seeing her. Because when he saw her, things happened. Uncontrollable things. Things he didn’t like, didn’t need, or want… Or maybe he did want them and that was the problem, because he couldn’t have her. Mustn’t even try. She was not for him. She deserved so much better.
‘I want to know why you’ve been ignoring all my messages,’ she said.
‘I’ve been working. I don’t have time to reply to messages.’ He still didn’t meet her eyes.
‘I’ve been working too; I messaged during my break. Surely you have breaks too. You’re a lawyer. Don’t you know you have a legal right to a break?’
‘Of course I do, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend them reading and replying to messages.’ He glanced at her in time to see her rolling her eyes. This was exactly why she didn’t need someone like him in her life. She was all sunshine and rainbows, but his influence leached the smiles and joy from her. It couldn’t be plainer that she found him irritating. So be it. Safer this way.
‘Well, how about I save you the bother of reading them by telling you the ideas I had?’ She clapped her hands together and smiled.
‘Why don’t you just do whatever you want? I don’t really care.’
She blinked and took a step back. ‘Wow, ok. That’s pretty brutal. You speak your mind, why don’t you? Don’t hold back.’
‘It’s just the truth.’ But he swallowed, his throat dry. He hadn’t meant to be quite so abrasive.
‘What exactly don’t you care about?’ she pressed. ‘The ideas? The sten in general? Or my brother’s wedding?’
He flashed her a narrow-eyed look, trying to ignore the jolt in his gut. Not again. It always happened. Always had. No matter how much he tried to ignore it – ignore her. That smile, her voice, her hair… such beautiful hair. The bolt struck him deep and low again, making him imagine things he really should not be imagining, like running his fingers through those chestnut locks, kissing those lips. Christ, stop. ‘I don’t particularly care about the sten.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It’s nothing to do with me. Let Genevieve and Finlay decide what they want and leave them to it.’
‘That isn’t how it works. It’s our job to arrange something for them.’
‘Says who?’
‘It’s traditional.’
‘Is it?’ He gave a little shrug. ‘I don’t see how it can be traditional when these stens haven’t existed that long.’
‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous. It’s always been the best man’s job to arrange the stag night and the bridesmaids’ job to do the hen party. So when you put them together to make a sten, it means you and I have to work together too. Now that may be offensive to you, but let’s be grown-ups and do this for my brother and my friend.’
‘It’s not offensive to me, it’s just… Oh, never mind. Tell me the crazy ideas.’
‘Who said they were crazy?’
‘Are things like this ever sensible?’
Again, her eyes rolled as she pulled out her phone. ‘This is the list I’ve made so far.’ She threw him a look, presumably to check he was listening and hadn’t wandered off. ‘We could do a whisky tasting tour of local distilleries. My friend, Felicity, will help us with that if we choose it. An outdoor adventure weekend with hiking, canoeing and camping at Heather Glen. A murder mystery dinner at the Loch View Hotel. A ghost walk around the town or horse riding at a nearby farm.’
He gave a little shrug. ‘How am I supposed to know what they want to do? Just ask them.’
‘I will, when the time is right.’ She pulled a face at him. ‘But what do you think of the list?’
‘None of them are my cup of tea and they all sound like a complete waste of time and money, but it’s not me who’s getting married.’
‘Thankfully. A narrow escape for would-be Mrs Wrights all around the world.’
‘Listen, we don’t all need to subscribe to your romantic notions or ideas on what a “traditional” wedding should look like. I’m entitled to my own opinions.’
‘And luckily we don’t all have to sign up to being dour, stuck-in-the-mud, grumpy gits either.’ Her tone was still light and breezy, but her brown eyes flashed. ‘Just because you’re a cynic who thinks every happy couple will end up in your office two months down the line doesn’t mean we all have to think like that.’
The wind picked up, gusting across the small parking area. Hayley gathered her hair together at the base of her neck and rolled it over her shoulder. Dark chestnut coils looped over the lapels of her smart grey coat.
Oliver breathed in deeply and very deliberately. Her words may have been aimed to wound him, but watching her twist a loose curl around her little finger was more torturous than anything she might say. He forced his gaze away as a small bus stopped on the street beyond. A woman got on and Oliver watched her approach the driver and pay – anything not to look at Hayley. In some ways, she was right about him, but he wasn’t a cynic. I’m just a realist. Why should he believe in everlasting love when he knew it was a lie?
‘We’ll just have to agree to disagree.’ He sensed she was about to fill the silence with another snipe at his character. ‘But I genuinely think we should butt out and let Finlay and Genevieve choose their own stuff. All our job should be is to make sure they don’t spend too much money on a one-day event in what I hope is a long and happy marriage.’
Hayley huffed out a laugh, still rolling her hair between her fingers. That shouldn’t be seductive, right? Was it normal to find someone’s hair this attractive?
‘That’s almost progress for you,’ she said. ‘And I’m not planning on choosing something they’ll hate. That’s why I’m trying to find a list of things I think they’ll like. All I wanted was some help from you.’
‘What’s the point? It’s not like I’ll be there.’
‘Are you kidding?’ She let her hair fall from her fingers, and gaped at him.
‘No. It sounds like my idea of hell.’
She shook her head and glanced skyward. ‘You are unbelievable. How can you even think about not going? You’re the best man.’
‘It’s not my kind of thing. I won’t enjoy it and I don’t want to spoil other people’s enjoyment.’
Her head tilted a little, and she eyed him like she was examining him or trying to mind read. Why was every inappropriate thought he’d ever had about her rushing to the surface? Try as he might, he couldn’t stop them. If she really could read minds, she’d be getting an eye opener alright.
‘Why do you think you wouldn’t enjoy it? Is it because you’re worried about being there on your own?’
‘No,’ he said, far too quickly. How had she come up with that? Maybe she’d hit closer to the mark than he cared to admit.
‘It’s not like you won’t know anyone,’ she said. ‘I could set you up with someone if you want? You might enjoy it more if you had a date.’
‘What? No—’
‘Though you better lighten up a bit if I set you up with one of my friends.’ Her voice was jokey again, and she raised her eyebrow in tandem with her coy smile.
‘I’m perfectly capable of getting a date if I need to.’ He tightened his grip on his laptop case and took a step forward. ‘That’s got nothing to do with why I don’t want to go.’
‘If you say so.’ She dropped her phone into her bag with a sigh. ‘Well, that was a happy waste of five minutes then. So, the bottom line is you don’t care what we do as long as it doesn’t cost too much and it’s what Finlay and Genevieve want, because you won’t be going anyway.’ She flicked him a pointed look, almost daring him to contradict her.
‘An excellent summary. Well done. Have a nice evening.’ He hitched his laptop bag over his shoulder, held his breath, and walked past her. Setting eyes on her ignited his insides, her perfume messed with his head, and he couldn’t risk even the slightest whiff. God only knew what would happen if he had to spend more time with her. That had to be avoided at all costs.