Chapter 37
Elsie
The remainder of July slips by in a blink.
The hottest days of summer are spent working six days per week, helping Olivia with the remaining wedding prep, nailing down a plan with Noah for our booth at the end-of-summer festival, where we plan to teach another class, and spending the rest of my free time with Declan.
We never seem to have the time for real dates with our different work hours and packed schedules.
We manage to squeeze in one Sunday brunch at a cute spot in the next town over, where we have a much-needed break from the nosy people who want a front-row seat to our new relationship.
Another night, we get tickets for some new action movie and manage to be the only ones in the theater who aren’t from out of town.
Most of our time together, though, is spent curled up on the couch at my place or his, with a late dinner and a movie that we mostly talk through.
We spend at least one or two nights together each week. One morning Noah arrived early and caught me sneaking in the back door of the shop, and he teased me about it for two days straight.
With a little over a month to go in the competition period for Best New Business, we’ve really amped up our efforts to stand out.
Every now and then we’ll give away a free bouquet to whoever leaves the best flower-related pun in our social media comments, or we’ll post teaser photos of a half-assembled bouquet and give the finished arrangement away to whoever is first to correctly guess what kind of flowers we’re working with.
I make no secret of my plans to crush Sean and Declan in the competition.
“It’s nothing personal,” I assure Declan. He usually just laughs and kisses me.
I know the Immortal Ink crew has been doing flash tattoo days, and sometimes they run deals on piercings.
Other than that, I don’t think they’ve done much beyond the norm to try and win the competition.
But they don’t have to; their reviews speak for themselves.
They’re rated nearly five stars on all platforms where people can leave reviews, and they deserve it. They’ve earned it.
I still want to crush them when it comes time for people to vote, though.
Now, with just days to go until Olivia and Cam’s wedding, I’m gearing up for what’s going to be a long few days.
I can’t wait.
“Should I do a smoky eye?” Grace asks from her spot on the floor in front of Olivia’s full-length mirror.
“I’ll always vote for a smoky eye,” Olivia calls from the closet. “At least on you.”
“I second that,” Gail chimes in. She sits cross-legged on Olivia and Cam’s bed with a small makeup bag in her lap and a mirror propped on a pillow in front of her. Grace, meanwhile, has at least twenty-five tubes, bottles and palettes scattered across the floor beside her.
The wedding is just two days away and we’re going bar hopping for one last hurrah before the big day.
Olivia and Cam didn’t want a bachelorette or bachelor party because neither of them wanted to be away from Lucy, but Grace and Ty tag-teamed them and more or less told them we’d be going out tonight.
The guys will be going out in Portland while Olivia, Grace, Gail and I keep it local.
Port Myles might be a small town, but it’s also a tourist town – and tourists love to drink on vacation. There’s no shortage of bars in town to choose from, and we’re planning to hit all of them.
“I just got a text from Sadie,” Olivia says, emerging from the closet wrapped in a short satin robe. “She says to have a shot for her tonight.”
“Remind me who that is?” Grace says from her perch in front of the mirror. She still has yet to get dressed or do her hair, and we’re supposed to be leaving in twenty minutes.
“Cam’s business partner,” I remind her. I’m on the floor next to her, painting my nails a bright red to match the lipstick I’m planning to wear.
“Oh, right. I haven’t seen her since – god, I love this song,” she exclaims, distracted by my ringing phone. The chorus of Harry Styles’ “Daylight” echoes through the room and Grace sings along.
Careful not to mess up my wet nails, I slide the phone closer to me on the floor, smiling when I see the name on the screen.
“I know that look,” Grace says, wagging a mascara wand at me. “That’s your man calling, isn’t it?”
“My man?” I roll my eyes, but I can’t completely wipe the grin from my face. I guess he kind of is my man. We sort of fell into a relationship, though we never had a discussion about it or put an official label on it.
“I know what this is about,” Olvia says excitedly, hurrying over to plop down onto the floor beside me. “Answer on speaker.”
I’m not sure what she’s talking about, but I tap the button to answer his call, then the one that puts him on speaker.
“Declan.” His name sounds like a sigh leaving my lips.
I wish we were on a video call so I could see him.
It’s been such a busy week, we haven’t had much free time to spend together. “Hi.”
“Hey, baby,” he says, eliciting a chorus of “awww” from the women around me. Declan chuckles, taking it in stride. “Hi, ladies.”
“Hi, Declan,” Olivia, Grace and Gail parrot back to him.
“What’s up?” I ask, raising my voice to be heard over the background noise on his end. I can make out a few different voices, yelling and laughing and – wait a second.
I know those voices.
“They got you.”
“They got me,” Declan confirms.
“Yes!” Olivia yells, pumping a fist in the air. “Cam wasn’t sure if you’d want to go, but I knew Ty could convince you.”
“I don’t think there was any convincing involved. I believe his exact words were, ‘You’re going out with us tonight and you’re not going to be a baby about it. Go get changed.’”
Grace tosses her head back in a laugh. “I love that man. I’m so glad we get to keep him.”
“Cheers to that.” I raise my hard cider before taking a sip.
Gone are the days when we’d get ready and pregame with thumping music and a mission to get drunk before we leave, knocking back shot after shot in a dingy dorm room or someone’s apartment.
Apparently, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven, my version of a pregame is sipping on a cider while I soberly paint my nails.
“I just wanted to let you know I’ll be out with these guys tonight,” Declan says. “You ladies have fun.”
“Wait,” Noah calls out. “Don’t forget about –”
“Oh shit, thank you,” Declan cuts him off. “Elsie, check the front pocket of your purse. First round is on me tonight.”
Gail, who’s sitting closest to my purse on the bed, grabs the small bag and unzips the front pocket. She pulls out a fifty-dollar bill and waves it overhead.
“How did that even get in there?” I ask.
“Declan had me put it there for him this afternoon,” Noah says proudly.
“God, that’s hot,” Grace says, taking a sip of her drink, some kind of canned cocktail. “Got any single friends?”
“Quit being so thirsty,” a familiar voice calls out. One I haven’t heard since Christmas, when he last came back to Port Myles for a visit.
“Ethan,” Gail scolds, her mom voice in full force. “Quit starting trouble.”
“That’s all he knows how to do,” Grace scoffs.
She and Ethan, Olivia’s older brother, have been butting heads since long before I moved to Port Myles.
Since they were young kids, the way Olivia describes it.
They get along about twenty percent of the time, and the rest is usually bickering and calling each other names.
“Love you too, Gracie.” He can’t see her raise her middle finger to the phone as she sips her drink, but it makes the rest of us laugh.
“Thanks for the drinks,” I tell Declan, trying to steer this conversation back on track. “That was sweet of you.”
“It was nothing,” Declan says, and I can practically hear his shrug.
“Have fun with the guys tonight.”
“We’ll send pics so you can see how hot your Olivia Newton John is,” Grace promises him.
We’re all dressing as different leading ladies from Olivia’s favorite movies.
I’m still not sure how it happened – I think Grace is to blame – but I’m going to be dressed as Sandy from “Grease.” End-of-the-movie Sandy, with the painted-on faux leather and sky-high red heels.
“You’d better,” Declan warns.
“Bye, ladies,” Cam chimes in. “Take care of my girl tonight.”
“We will,” I promise. After another round of goodbyes, we hang up.
“Alright,” Olivia says, clapping her hands. “We’ve got less than twenty minutes. Let’s go, girls.”
Forty-five minutes later, we’re locking the door behind us and piling into Gail’s car. She had insisted on being designated driver for the night, despite Grace begging her to drink with us.
“If I have even a sip of alcohol tonight, I’ll be hungover until after the wedding,” she’d said. I’m guaranteed to have some regrets in the morning when I have to wake up with the sun and start assembling flowers, but that’s a problem for future Elsie to deal with.
Tonight, we have a bride to celebrate.
All of the bars in town are within walking distance of each other, so we decided to start at our favorite one and see where the night takes us.
Lucky Jo’s is nestled at the end of Harbor Lane, just off Main Street toward the water.
They have a deck to sit on and watch the boats go by during the day, but it also turns into a favorite party spot at night.
With a big dance floor and a digital jukebox or band, depending on the night, it’s the place to go when you want to drink and dance and have a good time.
The twangy notes of a country song filter out the open doors toward us as we make our way down the sidewalk.
“Country night,” Olivia says, nudging my arm.
I’m the only country music fan among us, but we all enjoy a good country night at the bar.
You won’t catch Grace and Olivia turning on a country station in the car, but throw on some Shania Twain or Brooks and Dunn at Lucky Jo’s and they’ll “Boot Scootin’ Boogie” their way across that dance floor with the best of them.