Chapter 14
“Sloan, you look hot!” Vi peals as I walk up the staircase and enter the VIP section of the disco bar that’s attached to our hotel.
This is where the girls told me to meet them for our Tequila Sunrise bachelorette party, but I’m shocked to find the club is completely empty.
The lights are swirling and the music is thumping loudly down below, but there’s not a person in sight other than our group of girls who are all seated on several black leather sofas.
I smooth down my nude-coloured, knee-length dress that’s decorated with a cool, metallic shimmer and a T-strap back.
It’s a fabulous dress I bought for a client who asked me to send it back because it wasn’t a well-known designer.
I was bummed because it was a unicorn of a find, so I had to keep it for myself.
“You are the one who looks hot,” I reply, eyeing Vi’s trumpet-shaped, floor-length, red dress. Wide straps crisscross on the back, revealing more than a smidge of her tanned skin. “Aren’t brides supposed to wear virginal white?” I ask with a smile as she pulls me into a hug.
She waves me off. “Red is my colour! And it drives Hayden mad.” She giggles and turns to face the group with me on her arm. “Okay, so you know Poppy, Indie, and Belle, but you haven’t met Hayden’s sister, Daphney, yet. Daphney, this is my brother Gareth’s girlfriend, Sloan.”
A younger-looking blonde waves from her spot on the other side of the coffee table as I say, “Nice to meet you.”
“And this is Hayden’s brother’s wife, Leslie!” Vi adds, turning me toward a girl with auburn hair who’s wearing a fabulously flamboyant dress. “She was my co-worker at Nikon first, though!”
“And if it wasn’t for me, you never would have ended up with Hayden!” Leslie exclaims, hopping up from the end of the couch and rushing over to shake my hand. “Hey there! You’re Sloan the American, right?”
I chuckle at the label. “That I am. You sound a bit American, too. Am I right?”
“I’m a born, bred, and cattle-fed Missourian! Where are you from?”
“Chicago!” I exclaim, tickled to have met a fellow Midwesterner.
“How crazy that we are meeting in West Africa!” she exclaims with wide eyes as she sucks through the straw of her drink.
Belle suddenly holds a glass out in front of me and says, “Drink up. Tequila Sunrise cocktails are the recipe to all that is good in life. You’ll thank me later.”
I accept it with a shrug and take a fortifying sip of the refreshing drink. “So you guys just arrived today, right?” I ask Leslie as Vi gets pulled into another conversation.
Leslie nods. “Yes. My two-year-old daughter, Marisa, cried almost the entire flight. It was awful. Luckily, my husband’s parents are on babysitting duty tonight, so Mama gets to party!” She swivels her hips and takes another drink.
“Oh, that’s so nice!” I reply with a smile. “My daughter, Sophia, is seven now, but she was three when we moved to England. I’m pretty sure that flight is where these came from.”
I point to the fine lines by the corners of my eyes, and Leslie bats my hand away with a scoff. “Please, I don’t see lines at all! You’re gorgeous.”
“And you’re sweet,” I reply with a laugh. Her accent reminds me of Sophia a bit because sometimes her words don’t sound fully American. She’s clearly been living in England longer than I have. “What brought you to England? Was it Hayden’s brother?”
“No. He was just a lucky bonus!” She smiles a Cheshire Cat sort of grin. “I work for Nikon with Vilma…Sorry, I know the rest of you call her Vi. We’re both camera bag designers and their headquarters are in London, so that’s kind of how I ended up over here.”
“Oh, how cool!” I exclaim. “I haven’t really had a chance to talk to Vi much about her job. I’m, well…I’m technically just a stylist, but I love designing and sewing when I have time.”
“OMG, me too! What do you make?” Leslie asks, her green eyes wide and excited.
“I make a bit of everything, but I really love designing menswear surprisingly. Tailored suits mostly.”
“Shut up! That is so cool. My favourite is dresses. I made this actually,” she states and twirls in her yellow floral-print, fifties-style, flare dress.
“Shut up yourself!” I repeat her sentiment because it’s fitting. “It’s amazing! It’s so fun and flirty.”
We sit down on a nearby couch so I can take a closer look at the stitching on Leslie’s dress.
I’m pretty sure we lose over an hour of the night talking about fashion.
She has dreams of opening her own boutique in East London, but the kind of capital and contacts she needs for such an endeavour is far more than she can handle.
I understand the struggle completely. The high fashion industry is a very niche market. If it weren’t for Callum’s connections with the affluent residents of Manchester, I never would have acquired the type of A-list clients I currently have.
Leslie also opens up to me about how she knows a startup business would be a huge commitment.
Her husband, Theo, owns a successful custom furniture store even though he had a rough start.
The difference is that he opened his business when he was single and unattached.
The thought of missing out on time with Theo and Marisa weighs heavily on Leslie’s mind.
The conversation opens the door for me to talk about the struggles I face being away from Sophia since the divorce. I don’t know if it’s the Tequila Sunrise talking or what, but I even open up about Sophia’s cancer battle and how overly cautious I am about her health and schedule.
Leslie has an incredible way of just listening, too.
She doesn’t judge or offer any words of advice.
Rather, she simply nods or agrees at all the right times.
It’s a moment of genuine connection between two mothers that I’ve not had with anyone since I moved to England.
My mother and sisters came to visit before the divorce was finalised, but their advice was to do whatever I could to work things out with Callum.
That definitely strained my relationship with them when my marriage still ended in divorce.
But something about Leslie listening and giving me the opportunity to express my feelings out loud is incredibly uplifting.
I don’t know if it’s because we’re both American or if it’s because of our similar interests, but I connect with her on a very different level.
It feels like we were best friends in another life or something.
It makes me sad that she lives in London and I live in Manchester.
It’s almost eleven when I hear Belle screech loudly from her spot on the couch. “You’ve got to be joking!” she exclaims to the female waitress, who shrugs her shoulders sheepishly and hands her a drink.
Belle turns her wide eyes to all of us, fresh cocktail in hand. “You guys, guess what she just told me?”
“What?” Vi asks, leaning in to take a sip through her straw, clearly feeling no pain.
“Tanner and Camden booked out this nightclub for the evening.”
“What does that mean?” Indie asks, adjusting the gold-framed glasses on her face.
Belle’s dark eyes turn menacing. “It means they booked it out for the entire night because those wankers didn’t want any strangers dancing with us. They paid off the hotel to keep us away from other men all night long.”
“No!” Vi exclaims with her jaw dropped. “Did Hayden have any part of that?”
“Oh my God, I’m sure they all chipped in like the insane freaks they are,” Belle all but growls. “If I didn’t find Tanner’s jealousy kind of hot, I would be really angry right now instead of slightly turned on.”
“Ew!” Vi cries, plugging her ears and rocking herself back and forth. “Please tell me it’s 11:11 so I can make a wish to go back in time and make that comment disappear from my mind.”
Belle and Indie laugh and high-five each other.
“Guys!” Leslie bellows, standing up and holding her hands out wide. “I think you’re missing the best part of this situation!”
“What’s that?” Vi asks, lowering her hands away from her ears.
“We have the entire dance floor to ourselves!” she exclaims and gestures down to the fully lit floor.
“We can dance like morons and not give a shit about embarrassing ourselves, which I’m highly familiar with!
” Her eyes fly really wide as she points to the DJ booth.
“We can request ‘Dancing Queen’ to be played on repeat all night long!”
“Maybe not all night long,” Daphney says quietly, wincing with embarrassment.
“Fine, Daph, you can request some young girl songs. Taylor Swift is your jam, right?”
“That’s Gareth’s jam!” Vi shouts and bursts out laughing.
My eyes land on hers. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”
Vi hunches over and hides her face, her contorted posture at complete odds with the fancy dress she’s wearing. “That’s supposed to be a secret!”
“You have to tell us now!” Poppy sings, clearly as interested in Vi’s comment as I am.
Vi sits up straight and exhales heavily. “Gareth warms up to Taylor Swift playing on his headphones, but he’d murder me if he knew I told you that!”
We all burst out laughing so hard that I’m certain Poppy is going to go into spontaneous labour. The ammunition this little factoid gives me will be most useful indeed.
Leslie suddenly pulls me in close and murmurs, “From one brooding man lover to another, be careful with that Taylor Swift card. If Gareth is anything like Theo, he will make you pay.”
I laugh at her warning and shoot her a lascivious smirk. “Oh, believe me, I’m counting on it!”