Chapter 18
NICK
‘So, how did you two love birds meet?’
When Delaney returned, she told me there was a change of plans and now we’re having drinks with a lovely African American couple from South Carolina.
Apparently, Cherie assumed Delaney and I were married and Delaney didn’t correct her. I haven’t bothered correcting her either, but now one of us will have to lie about our meet-cute.
‘Babe, why don’t you tell them,’ says Delaney with a smile and a head tilt. Note to self: give her a bollocking later.
‘Well…’ I begin, hoping like hell we don’t actually befriend this couple beyond tonight, leading to a lifetime of lies.
‘Oh, he’s always so modest,’ Delaney cuts in.
‘He rescued me – right here on Capri, in fact. We were both travelling solo and I noticed him on the hydrofoil on the way over. He was practically turning green – the poor guy – so I talked to him… you know, to distract him from the seasickness. So we get to the marina, and I’ve got this huge suitcase – I always bring a big one, so I can take home lots of souvenirs.
Anyway, I’m getting off the boat and the damned thing gets all caught up and I give it a good yank and I’m all’ – she wildly waves her arms around – ‘and a second – and I mean one second – before I’m about to fall into the water, my suitcase landing on top of me, this guy’ – she hooks her thumb at me – ‘grabs my arm with one hand and my suitcase with the other. And suddenly – I mean, I have no idea what’s even happening – I’m, like…
face to chest with this big muscly guy and I look up and…
’ She sighs, then looks at me adoringly.
‘You saved me, babe.’ She leans across to rest her hand on my forearm, really selling it.
‘Oh, that is so romantic,’ says Cherie.
From the outside, I can see that. But what impresses me most is that Delaney hasn’t lied – that is how we met. Sure, Marcus and Cherie will assume it happened some time ago, but there’s at least a kernel of truth there.
I smile, playing my part, then turn the question back on them. ‘Now, you’re the ones celebrating thirty-five years – how about you tell us how you met.’
It’s the perfect question, because Cherie gets all dreamy-eyed.
‘We met in college.’ She throws Marcus a pointed look.
‘And junior year, my girlfriend tells me about this handsome guy she met in her commerce class, who’s asked her out for coffee…
And I put two and two together, see, and I realise it’s the same guy who’s been really flirty with me – and now he’s asking out my girlfriend?
And I’m like, no sir, you do not pit girlfriends against each other – that is not cool.
So, I marched right up to Marcus, and I let him have it.
And you need to understand, the women who raised me – my mom, my aunts, my grandmothers – nobody messes with them, so when I say I came in hot… I was the sun.’
I throw my head back and laugh, glancing over to share the moment with Delaney, who’s also laughing. Marcus has obviously heard Cherie tell this story a hundred times or more – and loves it.
‘So, there’s me, in the middle of the quad, giving him a piece of my mind and – to his credit’ – she raises her eyebrows at Marcus, who gives his wife a knowing smile – ‘he just took it. He took all of it. And when I finished my tirade and was totally out of steam, he leaned in real close and he said, “I only asked Renee to have coffee with me to find out more about you.” Well! Didn’t he tell me what’s what? I was speechless.’
‘First and last time in thirty-five years,’ Marcus interjects.
‘Oh, you,’ she says, swatting him playfully. ‘Anyway, we started dating that weekend and we haven’t stopped dating since.’
Her words drive a shockwave through me. They haven’t stopped dating since – they fell madly in love all those years ago and they’re still madly in love.
The conversation carries on without me while I examine my own relationship, one I’m essentially hiding from, and have been for some time.
And I can’t for the life of me recall one moment with Pippa that felt like being thunderstruck. We hooked up in my childhood bedroom, then sort of fell into being a couple. It was easy to do with our families already so entwined – almost a foregone conclusion.
And twelve years later, here we are – engaged, but living separate lives.
A queasiness not unlike seasickness washes over me when Delaney’s question from earlier charges into my head: do you even want to get married?
‘Nick? You ready?’
I break free of my reflections to find all three of them looking at me, Delaney half out of her chair.
‘Ah, yes,’ I say, standing.
Cherie pops up and pulls me into a hug. ‘So nice to meet you,’ she says with a pat on my shoulder.
‘You too.’
She and Delaney exchange hushed words, glance in my direction, then hug.
‘Great to meet you,’ says Marcus, also standing, his hand extended. I shake it.
‘You too – and thanks for the drink.’
‘Any time.’
We say our goodbyes, Cherie waving us off like we’re close friends, and step out into the evening. We’re only a short way down the path when Delaney stops abruptly and grabs my arm.
‘Shit, we left without paying the cheque.’
‘No, we didn’t.’
‘Nick, I told you – we were going Dutch.’
‘Sorry, I meant that True North took care of it.’
‘Oh, okay then.’
She strides off and I catch up, falling into step with her.
‘I liked Cherie and Marcus,’ she says. ‘Nice couple.’
‘Very. You and Cherie seemed to hit it off – I thought you might exchange contact details or something.’
‘Nah – sometimes people come into your life for a brief moment. You’re not gonna be lifelong friends or anything – they’re single-serving friends.’
‘Single serv—’ I cut myself off. Is that how Delaney sees me? Only if that was the case, would she be entertaining the idea of us working together?
‘You haven’t heard that expression before?’ she asks.
I glance down at her and she’s looking at me, her eyes filled with curiosity. Only, she’s not watching where she’s going, and she trips on a cobblestone. She stumbles, her left ankle rolling, and falls into me, and I catch her before she tumbles to the ground.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask. ‘Did you hurt your ankle?’
‘I don’t think so.’ She gingerly rests her left foot on the ground, testing her weight while I hold on to her. ‘No, all good.’ She looks up again, her mouth stretching into a grateful smile. ‘You keep rescuing me – maybe you are Superman.’
I crinkle my nose at her. ‘Superman?’
A blush rises in her cheeks and she drops her gaze. ‘It’s what Megan calls you.’
‘Megan, your best friend, calls me “Superman”? What exactly did you tell her about me?’
Delaney’s pursed lips tug to the side. It’s very cute, this look – and even more evidence of her embarrassment than her pink cheeks.
She’s also still in my arms, which feels both completely natural and utterly wrong. I steady her on her feet and let go.
What are you doing? I ask myself as we walk on. I honestly have no idea, I reply.
‘I didn’t mean you – you get that, right?’ Delaney asks a minute or so later.
‘Sorry?’
‘The single-serving-friend thing – that doesn’t apply to you.’
‘Oh, right – I didn’t think it did,’ I say – only a tiny fib.
‘Nick?’
‘Mmm?’ I’m expecting her to tell me she’s tipsy or she had a nice evening or something, so what she does say is a shock.
‘Did you know that Nicholas and Pippa are having dinner together tonight?’
Now I stop in my tracks.
‘What?’
‘Apparently, they got talking earlier and she invited him out.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah.’
We keep walking, only more slowly this time. It irks me that Pippa and Nicholas are having dinner, making me a little queasy. But I’m sure it’s completely innocent. Unlike almost kissing Delaney. And lying about sharing a bed with her. And having to fight my attraction to her.
Somethings else occurs to me and the queasiness ramps up.
If Nicholas has talked to Pippa – and she’s invited him to dinner – then he probably knows that Pippa’s parents and Ashley are in Reykjavik.
Hell, he could be having dinner with all of them right now.
Which means it’s likely he’ll learn why they’re all together. What if he tells Delaney?
Or maybe he already has.
‘Did he say anything else?’ I ask, preparing to explain why I withheld such important information.
‘He wants me to come to London when flights reopen,’ she replies flatly.
Even if he did tell her about the wedding, that can wait.
‘Do you want to go to London?’ I ask.
It seems like the only thing holding their relationship together is Delaney’s commitment to making it work. And that’s wavering based on what she said last night.
‘Truth?’ she asks, looking over.
‘Always, remember?’
‘Hmm, yeah. Well, in that case, no. Even if I could free up some time after this – which would have to be unpaid, ’cause I’m out of vacation days – what’s the point? It’ll only be a repeat of the last visit and the one before that and the one before that.’
She doesn’t go into detail and I’m unsure if I should pry.
‘You know, I’ve never met his siblings and I’ve only ever met his parents once,’ she says, her voice notably quiet. ‘And he introduced me as his “friend from America”.’
‘When was that?’ I ask – maybe it was early in their relationship, and he was still finding his feet.
‘The last time I saw him – about four months ago. I mean, I could understand it if we’d just started dating, but…’
There’s that word again – dating. A word brimming with promises of romance and adventure, of fun and sex – lots of sex. Lots of fun sex.
Only it doesn’t seem to hold the same meaning for Delaney – or not any more. Sadly, I can relate.
We arrive at the hotel, only the night feels incomplete somehow and I don’t want to go back to the room yet.
‘Did you want to go up or…?’ I ask.
‘Or what?’ she asks before capturing her bottom lip between her teeth, a habit I find more charming each time.