Chapter Twenty-Three #2
“What? What’s—” My mouth clamps shut as I turn around to see the woman still waiting in line, only now with Callum standing right beside her.
I haven’t seen him since yesterday when he kissed me not two feet from where we’re standing now, and while I know it’s because we’ve both been busy, a small, immature part of me can’t help but think that this is also some kind of punishment.
“I’d take him,” Richie says casually, and Harry grins at me. “Unless that’s her match.”
“That’s not her match,” I say sharply.
“Does she know that?” Harry asks, as she puts a hand on Callum’s forearm. He laughs at something she said, and I stare at them.
“Your neck has gone all pink,” Harry adds gleefully. Richie just looks confused.
But before I can do anything like stomp over there and make a scene, Callum glances up, his eyes immediately finding mine. As he does, the woman’s hand drops away and she turns back to the well, and Callum gives me a look that says he knows exactly what I’m thinking, and heads inside the pub.
“Do you need to cool down?” Richie asks politely, and I leave Harry to explain what’s going on as I follow Callum back inside.
There are so many people inside that I lose track of him immediately, and I’m so focused on finding him that I don’t even notice someone slip out from behind the bar until Adam almost walks into me.
“And where do you think you’re going?” I ask, spying the gym bag clenched in his hand.
“I just need to head out for a second.”
“You what?” I spin around as he sidesteps me. “We’re starting in twenty minutes! Who’s minding the bar?”
“I got Nush to fill in.”
“You put Anushka behind the bar?”
“She wanted to help. I gave her your punch recipe.”
“Adam—”
“I’ll be back in a bit, I promise. Everything’s under control.”
Everything is not under control, and he can’t just leave me here alone, but before I can correct him, he slips off around the back of the pub and disappears.
Well, that’s just su perb .
I slip inside, trying to keep smiling because everyone is smiling. They’re smiling and excited, and I need them to stay that way because I refuse to let everything go wrong.
“Nush.”
“Hi!” Anushka beams at me from behind the bar, looking like she’s having the time of her life as she adds decorative sugar around the rim of the punch bowl. “It’s going well, isn’t it? There are so many people. Has Gemma met her match yet?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s even here yet. Actually, I don’t think she’s even here yet. And what about you?” I ask. “Did you meet Ryan?”
“Yeah.”
“ And ,” I prompt, when she doesn’t continue.
“Oh.” She makes a face. “I didn’t really like him.”
“What do you mean, you didn’t like him?”
She shrugs, setting out more wine glasses. “When you know, you know, right? He didn’t seem too upset about it.”
“You told him you didn’t like him?”
She looks up as though finally realizing how horrified I am. “What was I supposed to do? Ghost him? He was fine with it.”
“Nush, you’re supposed to give him a chance! You’re supposed to talk for a few hours and get to know each other.”
“We talked,” she says defensively. “I showed him a picture of Chester. He told me about his trip to Thailand. We had zero chemistry and his phone kept going off. He had the volume on , Katie. I haven’t taken my phone off silent in twelve years, and his was just dinging away with every news alert and weather report in the world.
You expect me to spend an evening with someone like that? I’m too pretty. I refuse.”
“But…” I’m oddly stung by her rejection of him. “He ticked all your boxes.”
“Yeah, but it’s more about the spark, isn’t it? It’s fine,” she adds at the look on my face. “I already found someone else.”
“What? Who?”
She nods across the room, and I’m startled to see the woman from outside, the one who’d been chatting with Callum, has wandered back in, tapping her fingers against her now empty glass.
“Her name’s Monica. Did you see how straight her shoulders are?”
“You can’t have her! That’s someone else’s match. And how do you even know her name?”
“I’ve already talked to her. She didn’t get on with her match either. Your grandmother really needs to up her game.”
“That doesn’t matter,” I say, deciding not to point out that I was the one who matched her. “You’re not allowed to steal matches. And she’s blonde,” I point out. “You said you didn’t want a blonde.”
“I didn’t say that. I just said I’d prefer dark hair.” Her attention strays back to the woman. “And kind eyes.”
“And she has kind eyes, does she?”
Nush nods. “And great legs.”
“Oh my God, Nush .”
“It’s not a rule!” she exclaims. “I’m allowed to flirt. I can’t help that I’m good at it.”
I fight back a groan as both of us turn Monica’s way, only to find her staring at us. She turns around immediately when we do, pretending to be fascinated by one of our posters.
Fine.
“You can flirt,” I say, reaching under the bar for the ice bucket. “Nothing more.”
“Aye, aye, captain.”
“But first, could you grab me some…I didn’t mean flirt with her now , Nush. I need you to—” Annnd she’s gone. I glare at her back as she weaves through the crowd and turn back to the impatient-looking man in front of me. “Hi. What can I get you?”
I spend the next ten minutes pouring drink after drink with no sign of Adam returning. It’s busy and for every person I greet, three more are there trying to make eye contact with me. I haven’t even made a dent in the crowd by the time Granny finds me.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, as I pour a glass of Prosecco for a woman who looks like she’s already had three. “You’re supposed to be outside checking in on the matches.”
“And you’re supposed to be basking in your glory, not running around like a headless chicken.” She’s dressed up in a red velvet dress, and matching purse, one which she slams down beside me, making two men next to her jump.
“We’ve got no one on the bar,” I mutter, grabbing a pint glass.
“I’ll be on the bar.”
Funny. “It’s fine. Adam will be back any minute now. I just need to—”
“You think I don’t know how to make a gin and tonic?” she barks, shooing me aside. “I’ve been pouring drinks long before your father was a twinkle in my eye. I think I’ll manage.”
She grabs the glass from my hand, and a bottle of wine with the other.
“You can be off duty for one night,” she says to me when I linger.
“I’ve got to go find Gemma.”
“Then find her. Find her and come back here and get yourself on the dance floor. Everything’s under control.”
“Granny—”
“ Go ,” she says, shooing me away as I kiss her on the cheek. Ignoring the gathering crowd, I push my way through the now very packed pub and back outside.
There’s only a small trickle of people still signing in and I hurry over to the reception desk, the sweat I got from working at the bar cooling uncomfortably on my skin.
“Is Gemma here yet?”
Bridget hesitates, not even looking at the long list of names before her.
“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she hedges. “She’s probably still getting ready.”
“She should have been here an hour ago! Has her match signed in?”
“Yes, but you should probably know that— Katie!”
“I’ll go get her,” I say already striding away. “She can have cold feet tomorrow.”
“But she’s—”
“Just stall him if he comes looking!” I call, and hurry up toward the village.