Chapter 35
I’m taking a detour, on my way from the hotel to the events building, to grab my mum’s lipstick from the car.
My dad rolled his eyes and told her to wear one of the other six in her handbag – which could be an exaggeration or it could be true – but she’s bought a special one, to match her mustard dress, so I volunteered to go grab it, just to have a breather, to get away from the wedding chaos, even if it’s only for a minute.
It’s a bit of a trek to the car park, where the event parking is. It’s out of the way, in a sort of woodland clearing, under the canopy of the trees. Even bare, they’re so tall, it’s like being in a cage.
I don’t have a coat on, because we were only supposed to be walking to the events area, and I didn’t want to be carrying a coat around with me all day. My God, it might be a bright day, but it’s freezing, and the deeper I walk into the woods, the darker it seems.
There’s no one else around, just rows of cars catching pops of light filtering through the trees, and it’s so silent, the kind of quiet where your ears start looking for things to hear, imagining all sorts.
You know that old question: If a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around to hear it, does it make a sound? Does that apply to all noises? Because I’ve got all this stress and frustration inside of me, and this feels like a good spot to just… let it all out.
What about if a woman screams into the void, mid-breakdown, on the morning of her cousin’s wedding? Will anyone hear it?
Only one way to find out.
‘Ahhhhhhhhhh!’
It bursts out of me, loud, primal even, and totally ridiculous. I half-expect a bird to drop out of a tree in shock. Animals to wake up from hibernation – a bear to pop out and maul me. Go ahead, buddy, make my day.
My breath clouds in front of me. My heart slows. Weirdly… that did help. Who knew?
Maybe if it all gets too much later, I’ll come back out here and scream again. And again and again. Between that and prosecco, maybe I can get through today.
‘I know family weddings are rough,’ a voice calls out, amused, from behind me. ‘But that seemed a bit overdramatic.’
It sounds like Jordan but… it can’t be, can it? I turn around, half expecting to have completely imagined the voice altogether, but there he is, standing there, looking like a dream in a black suit.
‘Hi,’ he says, smiling like he’s just popped his head through the adjoining door.
I blink at him.
‘Is it… really you?’ I blurt.
He laughs.
‘Why wouldn’t it be?’
I take a few shaky steps towards him. ‘Because I’ve had a lot of prosecco already, to the point where screaming in a car park felt like a good idea,’ I point out. ‘But also because I assumed that you hated me. That you’d never want to see me again…’
He shrugs, but I can tell he’s trying to suppress a smile.
‘I can see why you might’ve thought that,’ he replies.
I don’t think – I just run. I throw my arms around him, and I’m so relieved when he catches me and holds me close. Even if he did hate me, I don’t care. I never thought I’d see him again. It’s so good to see him.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ he murmurs into my hair.
‘Better late than never,’ I whisper. Then I pull back slightly, so I can look at him. ‘I didn’t think you were coming. Or that you even knew where to find me. How did you…?’
He grins cheekily.
‘I don’t want to add to the narrative that all men are creeps, but with just a little mild stalking… I found your former employer, from your file – Paige must’ve deleted your number – and so I called your old workplace. Spoke to a guy called Ben – is that the Ben?’
‘The one and only,’ I tell him.
‘Well, I told him I was your date for the wedding, but that I didn’t know where it was… or your number… and he sent me here. Thinking about it, I’m lucky he gave me the right place.’
I laugh, but my face falls as reality sets in. My stomach tightens.
‘Tell me you didn’t sign the contract. The bad one,’ I blurt.
He nods.
‘Actually… I did.’
Shit.
‘Jordan, I’m so sorry, I didn’t?—’
‘Don’t worry,’ he cuts in gently. ‘I saw both versions. I read them both. Silly of Paige to think I wouldn’t read the contract before I signed.
It was obvious, even without two in the mix, that she was trying to sneak in a clause giving her complete control of Matcher US.
Like I wouldn’t notice. Anyway, I called her.
Called her out. She admitted everything.
Said she deserved it. Then she ranted about you messing it up, how she should’ve told you her plan, offered you more money… ’
‘She told me I was fixing a typo,’ I say, for what it’s worth.
‘I know,’ he says. ‘I’m sorry she dragged you into it. But I also know you, Lib. You wouldn’t hurt me. Or anyone. Not on purpose. That’s not who you are.’
I’m trying not to cry but I can feel my eyes filling up. Oh, I have far too much eye makeup on for this, unless I want to turn up to the ceremony looking like an emo.
‘She’s always been like this,’ he continues.
‘Jealous, ruthless, manipulative – impossible. I realised I couldn’t work with her any more.
Not even with the Atlantic between us. So I sold Matcher to her.
Cashed out, to start again, but on the condition that I could poach the team I wanted, because I’m starting something new.
Collaborating with RedFlags in Leeds. We’re building a new dating app – one with a rating system, so that bad users get strikes against their name.
Red flags – or maybe even “icks” for lesser offences.
Fewer creeps. More accountability. It will be bigger and better than Matcher. ’
‘Like TripAdvisor, but for people who date?’ I joke.
‘Exactly,’ he replies. ‘And it means I’ll be in Leeds for a while.’
‘Oh, really?’ I reply. ‘And am I one of the people you poached?’
‘No, of course not,’ he replies firmly. ‘Paige already sacked you – you’re a new hire. If you want a job? I already know your references. I’ll ignore Paige’s, obviously.’
My smile grows.
‘I’d love that.’
He takes my hand and shakes it playfully.
‘Good. Look, I know we should probably talk more, about everything, but later, yeah? After the wedding?’
‘Shit, yes, the wedding, we’d better go,’ I say – my mum will just have to do without her lipstick. I’m sure she would rather wear a slightly different shade than have her daughter walk into the ceremony late.
We turn together and head back towards the hotel, our footsteps in sync. Just as we reach the doors to the function suite, the music inside starts to play. Oof, crisis averted. Imagine if I’d walked in late, with Jordan. Hannah would’ve thought I was doing it to show off.
Inside, we slip into our seats, with seconds to spare. My mum spots us, eyes wide, smile beaming. My dad gives Jordan a nod and a handshake as he sits down next to him, eyebrows raised in amused approval. He’s passed the initial vibe check; that’s a big relief.
And then the ceremony starts, kicking off the day, and just like that, my nightmare is a dream again.
Today might not be so bad after all.