Chapter 12
TWELVE
Following the powerful beat of live music along the corridor, I walk down to the end of the hallway.
As I walk past the now empty reception desk, the original beams become lower.
I can only imagine that Dan Delaney has to dip his head walking down here, then I give a frustrated sigh and run my hands through my curls.
Stop thinking about him, I hiss in my head, annoyed with myself.
‘Hiiiiii Maggie!’ I turn to see three of the bridesmaids I’ve just photographed in their off-the-shoulder lilac dresses all waving at me. They are doing a funny dance, happily making what I assume is a TikTok outside the ballroom.
‘Hi!’ I smile, waving back as I pass them, feeling touched that they remembered my name as I slip inside the open doors of the wedding reception.
It’s a huge wedding. I know from my research that the ballroom has a hundred and eighty capacity, and it looks filled to the max, yet it still doesn’t look busy.
People are sitting around circular tables that surround an old parquet dancefloor.
I do a quick head count of twelve per table.
A few older people are dancing and the bridal table sits under the three Venetian windows that I first saw when I drove in earlier.
Aisling and Aaron are doing the rounds as a live band play in the corner.
I hold myself tight against the back wall so I can observe.
It is stunning, but I can see why it’s so expensive to hire. It must cost an absolute fortune to heat, especially in winter. I can’t help wondering what I would do here, if this were my room to organise. I cast my eye around, lost in my creative vision, oblivious and muttering to myself.
‘I’d one hundred percent use a divider and make two ballrooms out—’
‘They say talking to yourself is a sign of madness but I do it all the time.’ I nearly jump out of my skin as Dan slides along the wall beside me. It’s hard to tell from his voice whether or not he’s teasing again.
‘Jesus.’ I grab my chest.
‘No, it’s Dan. But you can call me Jesus if you like?’ he declares, this time giving my arm an affectionate squeeze. I stiffen.
‘Ha,’ I say, feeling giddy at his touch, not to mention how close he is, but determined to cut this conversation short and get on with my job.
‘We have to stop meeting like this,’ is what comes out of my mouth as I turn to look at him, noticing how he links his thumbs into the strap of that leather belt.
‘You know what they say: third time’s a charm.’ He drawls lightly.
‘True but clearly the universe has a sense of humour.’ I look at him.
‘Meaning?’ He raises a bushy eyebrow, a crooked half smile, and I am pleased to see he looks happy and that sadness he wore earlier has lifted.
‘Nothing.’ I try to keep my tone professional now as I glance out at the dance floor.
‘You weren’t very gracious about my apology so I’m taking it back.’ His body language is now a little guarded as he crosses his arms.
‘You can’t. Anyway, I was assuming Mary put you up to it?’ I accuse but I keep my voice light. I take a step along the wall away from him.
‘When you assume you make an ass out of you and me.’ Dan steps after me, elbows me playfully with his arms still crossed.
‘Yup, I’ve heard that one before.’ I refrain from elbowing him back.
‘Where are the Irish roots?’ he suddenly asks me.
‘How did you know that I had Irish roots?’ I say confused.
‘The red hair is a bit of a giveaway now.’ He raises a finger to my hair.
‘My great-great-grandparents were Irish on my dad’s side. Though I’m not sure exactly where from . . .’
‘Hang on! Are you tellin’ me you’ve never traced your Irish roots and you call yourself an American?’
‘One day, maybe when I get more time. I wouldn’t have a clue where to start. My mom suggested I do it while I’m here but once you have internet, I guess you can do it anywhere.’
‘Not necessarily. Sometimes you need to speak to real people in this life, Maggie, not a MacBook.’
‘This is a beautiful wedding to be invited to,’ I tell him, shifting my satchel further up my shoulder. I need to get away from him. I focus my eyes on Aisling and Aaron dancing cheek to cheek.
‘I didn’t know you were invited?’ Dan jokes with me.
‘I was. By the bride in fact, by . . . Ais-Aisling.’ I recall the pronunciation.
‘How is the article coming along? Did you want to interview me?’
‘Not really,’ I throw back, looking directly at him now.
‘Ouch!’ He play falls to the side, clutching his heart. ‘Take my picture?’ He strikes a pose. He leans to his right, pointing into the distance, a pout on his lips.
I laugh despite myself. ‘Not necessary. I’m only interested in the castle and the wedding,’ I say as he takes a step closer again, and my body jolts as his shoulder brushes off mine. Though he’s barely touching me I’ve shivers down my spine.
He rubs his jaw as that look falls across his eyes again, sadness and deep thought. He seems to snap out of it as quickly as it came over him as he laughs lightly. ‘Anyway, you’re a busy woman, I just came over to check you weren’t thinking of stealing the gifts? I can’t trust you, you see.’
‘Funny, aren’t you? No, I-I just wanted to see the ballroom. It’s amazing but it’s colossal.’
‘Aye, Maggie. It is.’ His voice low and that tone so sexy and when he says my name I experience that odd sensation again, like my blood is heating up as it flows through every vein I have, catching fire.
‘I’m going to go take some photos if that’s okay?’ I have to get away from him. Calming myself by rummaging in my bag, I pull out the Canon camera, hang the short strap around my neck and adjust the focus.
‘Course.’ He moves away then stops and steps back. ‘C’mere to me. I had that déjà vu feeling earlier when I met ya, ya ever get that feeling?’ he asks, pushing his hands down deep into his pockets, the glint of that brass buckle catching my eye again.
‘All the time.’ I nod, fiddling with the depth of lens on the camera.
‘It was like we’d met somewhere before? Or maybe someone who looks just like you? The whole scene played out,’ Dan says. ‘Bit mad.’
‘Maybe someone you swiped for online . . . a little Tinder action maybe?’ It’s my turn to tease him now and I completely surprise myself when it sounds a little flirty.
‘Tinder! Gimme a break. What a load of— No, I don’t do none of that.’ He takes both his hands out of his pockets and holds his hair back, as though the action will help trigger his memory.
‘We’ve never met before, believe you me, I would remember,’ I tell him with a slight flirt, slight sarcasm to my tone.
‘I’m not so sure . . .’
‘People read so much into déjà vu. Don’t be silly it’s just . . .’
‘. . . an illusion of memory. Although I don’t believe that,’ he says quietly now.
‘You think I reversed into your Rolls-Royce in a past life?’ I take a few test snaps of the dancefloor, shaking my head, look back at him, amused.
‘Funny you should say that, Mary said maybe we were married in the castle in a past life.’ He’s bending a little lower to meet my eyeline. It feels like a curiously intimate gesture.
‘Why would Mary say that?’ I ask in wonder. I barely know Mary, she barely knows me.
‘Ah, well she has a bit of a sixth sense.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ I check my auto-focus mode, switching it to a single-shot focus.
‘I made her a cup of tea after she served you earlier, insisted she put her feet up. Well, I made us both a cup in fact, and told her I’d thought I’d seen you before so she read my tea leaves.
She said we might have known each other in a past life.
In fact, we might have been married right here under this roof.
’ He raises his hand toward the ceiling.
‘God, I hope not!’ I blurt the words without thinking but again he just smiles.
‘Ouch! You’re fierce hard on me, but let me tell ya this, I only parked the Rolls-Royce in the car park five minutes before you crashed into it. I never, ever, ever park it there and I’m not sure why I did.’
‘Again, my bad luck.’ I continue to use the camera as a crutch, twisting and turning the lens, ensuring the battery is fully charged, anything to avoid meeting his eyes.
‘Do you not believe in fate, Maggie Grace?’ Dan says, even quieter now, and I’ve shivers down my spine again.
He’s clipped my Achilles heel! I can hear my mother in my head, year after year, pooh-poohing fate – my dad always said he almost went into the Polish bakery across the road, but something drew him into Soft Dough, where she was working.
‘No! Absolutely not. No, no chance. Never!’ I know I’m overreacting because he’s so close and I’m hyper-aware as I let my eyes drift back up to him. I see that strange look come across his face and his eyes dip once again.
‘Ah, that’s a shame, I do. I think life has a way of pointing ya in the right direction. I believe fate lends its hand.’ The sad tone that tugs at my heartstrings is back.
‘And I think you make your own luck in this life,’ I tell him more softly.
‘I disagree.’ He shakes his head.
‘Well, once again we will have to agree to disagree, Sir.’ I’m well aware I’m wasting precious time here; I can’t seem to get my feet to actually walk away.
A small distance of silence falls between us.
We say nothing more as the band launch into John Lennon’s ‘Woman’ and couples take to the dancefloor. Then, Dan leans in closer, his lips almost grazing my ear. Is he going to ask me to dance? The hairs on the back of my neck tingle.
‘As for Mary, she may be the village blabbermouth but a lot of folk around here believe in her sixth sense . . .’
‘I-I better do some work . . .’ I swallow hard and finally take another step away, feeling a little unsteady on my legs.
‘I hope your bedroom is to your satisfaction?’ It’s how he says bedroom – it’s bizarrely sexy. I clutch the camera strap around my neck even tighter.
‘M-my bedroom?’