Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
He was here. In the middle of the crowded room his gaze caught hers and her stomach fluttered.
Which sounded as cliched as a Mills and Boon novel but she couldn’t help this reaction.
In fact, she couldn’t help any of this reaction.
She felt a tug as strong as before. Which was weird, because given a choice, the man’s looks were not her usual version of what she thought of as handsome.
He had as many freckles as she did, and he was lean rather than muscled.
But she couldn’t deny the flip-flop inside.
And knowing how crazy she must’ve sounded before when she’d ripped into him made her want to make it up to him. So she smiled.
He blinked, then offered a tentative smile in return. Her stomach swooped. Okay, the more she looked the more he appealed.
“Ash?” Fiona muttered. “Who are you looking at?”
Oh! She dragged her gaze back to her sister. That’s right. This was a public place and others could see her. “Ah, no one.”
“Who’s the fella over there in the booth?” Declan asked.
He’d noticed too? Oh dear. “Um, I think he’s the mystery guest at the hotel.”
“The one who insisted on still coming even though it was a private event?” Fiona rolled her eyes.
Trying to explain to her sister exactly why he had insisted on coming was too hard. Especially here. Besides, she didn’t want to expose him to her sister’s certain ridicule.
“Come on, let’s get those seats.” Declan led the way to where Rory and Aidan were already seated.
She moved to join them. Then paused. Smiled at the man in the booth, who seemed as taken aback as before. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Uh, hi.”
The sleazy looking guy, the one who seemed to think himself God’s gift to women, crooked a grin. “You have fun today?”
Why did everything he say sound laced with innuendo? She kept her smile on with effort. “It was a good day. Well, most of it,” she added in tease.
She really didn’t want to sound like she blamed his friend for the un-fun part of the day. But her words and glance went there anyway. And sure enough, he was looking embarrassed. Which was so not what she’d intended.
“Ash?” Rory touched her hand, drawing attention to who she was supposed to be with.
Her sisters and groomsmen. Well, apart from Fiona’s partner who was at the hotel with his wife and baby daughter.
Right. “Well, have a nice night.”
“You too.”
“Andy.” She nodded to him. “Randy.”
“It’s actually Grady,” he complained.
Whatever. She took her seat, her peripheral vision in line with where Andy sat.
“Who was that?” Fiona asked in a low voice.
She sighed, sipped her drink. “You know how I had a little accident before? It was with him.”
“Who, the freckled one or the one who looks like he thinks he’s God’s gift?”
She snickered. “The first one.”
“And you’re talking to him, not screaming?”
“I did that earlier,” she admitted. Which was so not what Jesus would likely do. But oh well. She wasn’t Jesus.
She noticed her sisters sneak looks over their shoulders, Aidan and Declan too.
See, she knew how to bring the fun factor, she was good craic.
She sipped her drink, glad for the music which drowned out most of her wild imaginings, but not all.
She felt self-conscious, especially having confessed to Rory earlier about her feelings.
It was like she was now on show. Fortunately, it didn’t look like Rory had said anything to the others, not even Aidan, which was good.
But what was not good was that her seat meant she was in prime position for when two blondes claimed the seats opposite Andy and Randy in the booth.
Her heart tightened. What was that about?
She didn’t recognise the blondes, and they certainly hadn’t booked in at the hotel.
So how did Andy know them? Did he prefer that kind of stick-thin blonde Bambi creature to a woman who owned her curves?
She snuck a peek over her shoulder, saw Andy glance away.
And the fact she’d been busted drew fresh heat to her cheeks, and fresh questions to her heart.
Had she misunderstood before? Maybe this seesaw of emotions was simply the natural result of her brother getting married today.
And instead of being part of the Fairall legacy she was operating under delusions ignited by a day of big emotions.
“Hey, look, they’re starting,” Rory said, pointing to the corner, as the band packed up.
As was common most Saturday nights the karaoke would begin late and continue until the wee hours.
Which meant, given the crowd’s enthusiasm levels, she might get the chance to perform several songs.
Nobody liked someone who took over, but the Fairall sisters often met with applause, and it was nice to think she could get something right at least.
“It’s a shame that Colin and Kara can’t be here,” Rory said.
“I’m sure they’re happy back at the hotel, doing newlywed things.” Declan winked.
“Ugh, yuk. I don’t want to imagine my brother doing that,” Fiona complained.
“Then why don’t you sing with me?” he asked, eyes intent on her.
Fiona eyed him over the brim of her drink, then shook her head.
“We could sing our favourite,” he persisted.
Aisling swapped glances with Rory, who seemed as taken aback as she. Declan and Fiona had a favourite song? Didn’t Fiona hate him?
“No thanks.” Fiona drained her drink then rose. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Declan pressed his lips together, watching her, then drained his drink too.
“Um, Declan, just wondering what the heck was that about?” Aisling asked.
“What do you mean?”
“You and Fiona have a favourite song?”
“Had a favourite song, more like.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Whoa. Okay, two things: are you telling me you used to be a couple? And what is the song?”
He shrugged, studying the foamy residue lacing the sides of his glass. “I don’t know if I should say.”
Rory shot Aisling another glance. “Oh, you now definitely need to say.”
He sighed. “Anyone else need another drink?”
“No, you can’t get out of it by saying that,” Aisling protested.
He offered a twisted smile. “Are you sure?” Then he rose and steered back to the bar.
“Rude!” Aisling watched him then turned back to Rory. “Oh my goodness. Can you believe that?”
“I know! I thought she disliked him.”
“Well, there’s obviously more to that story. Good on Declan for trying, though.”
“He’s a good one.”
“They were at school together, right?” Aidan asked.
“A million years ago.” Aisling shrugged. “I was a lot younger, and Fiona’s never been the type to overshare.”
“Unlike some.” Rory nudged Aisling’s shoulder.
“Look, can I help it if I like to call it as I see it? No, I cannot. But anyway, back to Declan and Fiona. He got married to someone else and Fiona moved to Dublin.” Which, now she thought about it, made sense if Fiona hadn’t liked what had happened.
“I don’t think I put two and two together, because all of this was happening around the same time as our father died and we learned that he had left the running of the business to Colin, too. Fiona was pretty upset by that.”
“Sounds like she might’ve had a lot of things to be upset about,” Aidan mused.
Hmm, put like that… maybe.
“Go on, ask him,” a voice goaded from the table behind.
“Okay.” Giggles. “Hey, Andy. Are you going to sing?”
Sing? Oh, put his name forward for karaoke. He didn’t seem the type to push himself forward like that. Unlike her. “Hey, Rory. Are we going to sing or what?”
“Of course we’re going to. And even Aidan is going to have a go, right?”
He shrugged good naturedly. “I’ll give anything a crack if you want me to.”
“Aww, bless. That’s the spirit.” Aisling tried for a casual look behind her, and peeked at Andy. He was frowning, shaking his head.
Irritation stirred at the women who kept pestering him. Why couldn’t they see the man didn’t want to sing?
She pushed to her feet, grabbed Rory, and they made their way down the front, and gave their name and requested song to Ethan, the sound guy tonight.
“You two want to kick things off?” Ethan asked. “We might as well start things right.”
Aisling glanced at Rory who shrugged. “Sure. Let’s do this.”
He handed them two microphones, and cued the music and words. But they didn’t need the lyrics for their go-to song. “Ready, ladies?”
“Always.” Aisling glanced across the room which had hushed. Then the opening funky beats began. “Now there was a time when they used to say that behind every great man there had to be a great woman.”
Rory took Aretha Franklin’s part, even doing some of the licks, and the crowd was clapping, smiling.
Most of the people knew she and Rory were sisters, they’d seen them do this before, and if they didn’t then the matching dresses might give it away.
But it didn’t matter, as they steamrolled to the chorus. “Sisters are doing it for themselves.”
She peeked across to the booth where Andy sat, a little smile on his face. In front of him, Aidan was grinning, clapping along.
Oh, it was fun to perform like this. To let her hair down, literally, as she released the clip that had held her French roll in place.
That move instantly drew a roar from the crowd, and she hoped they didn’t think it was a precursor to her removing anything else.
But they wouldn’t. They knew her and her family too well to ever think that.
By the time they reached the end, nearly the whole room was singing along. “Sisters are doing it for themselves.”
“Now that’s how we like to karaoke!” Ethan clapped for them. “Let’s give it up for Ash and Rory.”
“Thank you, thank you very much,” Aisling said in her best Elvis impression, then passed the microphone back to Ethan.
“I hope that’s inspired a few of you to give it a go,” Ethan said as they made their way back to their seats, among congratulations and praise.
“That was awesome.” Aidan kissed Rory as two glasses were placed on the table by a barmaid.
“Oh! We didn’t order these,” Aisling protested.