Epilogue
Hertfordshire
ONE YEAR LATER
“The place looks amazing,” I assured Bex, setting the final touches to her hair.
“Are you sure?” she fretted. “Because today has to be perfect.”
“It will be,” I said.
Bex and Dan’s wedding last year had been a rushed formality in Dan’s family church, followed by a low-key meal in a classy restaurant.
The event had been perfectly pleasant, but it wasn’t the day Bex would have chosen.
She had struggled to enjoy it, thanks to the grueling symptoms of her pregnancy.
So, we had decided that she and Dan would have the big, glamorous party when she felt ready and able to organize it.
Thankfully, Dan had pretended his opinion mattered in this decision and had agreed wholeheartedly to make sure the house and its garden would be ready in time to host such a thing.
Bex turned in her seat to look at me. “Thank you.”
“For what, the hair?” I pulled a face. “Probably shouldn’t thank me yet; not sure those curls will hold.”
“For everything.” Bex took my hand. We were in her dressing room at her Hertford home, her pride and joy and a testament to her skills as a designer.
A dusky-pink room with edgy sage-green accents, it was her sanctuary from the cacophony of working-mum life.
“For dropping everything last year to help with the wedding and Avery … and for today, for coming over from America when you’re so busy to help me again. ”
“Where else would I be?”
“I know, I know. But thank you. And it’s been so good to spend time with Elliot,” she said. “He’s … perfect for you. I’m happy you’re happy.”
“I really am,” I said. “Never did I imagine when I accidentally sent that email that I’d end up living in America with the love of my life and the job of my dreams.”
“And that is amazing,” Bex said. “But I really miss being your flatmate.”
“Me too.” I hugged her, my heart swelling. Bex sniffed and I pulled back. “Are you crying?”
“Nope.” She beamed, but her eyes were watery.
“Is everything okay?” I asked in alarm. “Magda’s not been on her bullshit again, has she?”
“No, she’s calmed down a lot now she’s got another baby in the family,” Bex said quickly. “I’m just really excited about today, I promise.”
“Good.” I cupped her face. “The party is going to be great, and you look sensational.” She really did, in a backless white jumpsuit that she’d paired with coral-pink heels.
“As do you,” she said appraisingly. “Seems New York taught you how to crack the pages of Vogue once in a while.”
“Thanks.” My dress – pre-approved by Bex, of course – was an emerald-green cocktail dress with a daring neckline.
It had reminded me of the designer gown I’d worn to the premiere, the night that had arguably changed my life.
I’d decided to wear the Jimmy Choos from that night too, figuring I’d be able to sit down a lot more at this event. “I love it.”
“I know someone else who will too,” Bex said with a knowing smile. Just then there was a knock at the door. “Enter!” Bex yelled.
Dan’s head peered around. “Come on, my love, party is starting!” Avery was at her childminder’s and Dan already had champagne on the go. “You wanted to start with the bouquet toss, right?”
“I did,” she said gleefully. “You’re sure everything is ready?”
“Oh, it’s ready,” he said with a grin.
“You two are so cute.” I loved how excited they were to celebrate each other. “But again, I have to ask, why the change of heart on a bouquet toss? I thought it was ‘an archaic tradition’ and ‘a waste of perfectly good flowers’?”
Bex paused. “Well, I didn’t do it at the actual wedding because I was pregnant and out of my mind. I kind of wanted the day to just … be over.”
“Plus you couldn’t exert yourself in your condition,” Dan said, sharing a glance with his wife.
“That’s right,” Bex said with a crooked smile. “But things are very different now.”
I looked between them as they giggled away. “You two are so weird. Fine, we’ll do the toss, but whoever catches it better have a delicate touch.” The bouquet Bex had selected was stunning, made of lush roses; it had cost a bomb. I’d hate to see it damaged.
We hurried out of the dressing room and to the stairs. Dan and Bex descended first, to cheers and whoops from the guests below. Elliot waited for me at the bottom, mouthwatering as ever in his tux, and I had to watch my step as I walked down; he still had that effect on me.
“You look incredible,” Elliot said, as I arrived at the foot of the stairs.
“Some might say, bewitching,” I said.
He pulled me close and landed a soft kiss.
“How are you holding up?” We’d flown in two days ago, taking advantage of a break in the post-production schedule of Twin Roses.
Tomorrow, we were traveling down to London to screen the rough cut of the movie for the London Film Festival, then back to LA for meetings with one of our distributors, before going on to New York to continue finishing the film.
“I’m awake,” I said, although jetlag was something I would never get used to. “Oh, could you remind me to set up a call with—”
“Hey.” He arched an eyebrow. “No shoptalk tonight. It’s about us.”
“Actually it’s about Bex and Dan,” I corrected him.
“Right,” he said. “But I’m serious. I know things are crazy, but could you manage to take tonight off?”
I raised my hands defensively. “Fine, fine.” My life was richer than it had ever been, but it was also relentlessly busy. “A break is why we’re here.”
Elliot stepped back, drank me in. “We’re having fun tonight.”
“Stop looking at me like that.” I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep my hands off him.
“Never,” he swore. People around us suddenly began to move towards the garden doors. “Come on, let’s get the best vantage point.”
“Vantage point?” I repeated. “You make it sound like a military operation.”
We headed out to the garden, Dan’s pride and joy. To counteract the autumn chill, a tent with heaters had been erected and lovingly decorated with flowers and festoon lighting. The overall effect was chic yet magical, and I grinned. Elliot was right; I was going to have fun tonight.
“Single ladies, report to the dance floor!” Bex purred. She and Dan were stationed by the DJ booth, mic in hand. A handful of ladies and Dan’s nieces obediently moved into position.
“Let’s move closer,” Elliot suggested. “Can’t really see here.”
“Okay.” Although I was surprised he cared – he’d agreed with my and Bex’s initial stance on bouquet tosses. But it was important to support Bex, so we pushed forward.
“Hmm. Kind of a weak showing,” Bex said. “I want to see real fireworks when I throw this. Okay, all unmarried ladies.”
“That means you too,” Elliot gave me a nudge as several more ladies joined the waiting group.
“Uh, no way.” I shook my head. “It’s embarrassing.”
“How is it embarrassing?” He laughed, brushing my knuckles with a kiss. “Come on, loosen up.”
I softened. “Fine. But only because you look so good in that tux. Honestly, it’s immoral, using your sexuality to control me.”
Elliot shrugged. “I use the gifts I was born with, what can I say?”
I tottered onto the dance floor, already ruing my decision to break the Choos out of storage. I could see the wedding photographer snapping away, so I put my game face on, ready to pose and pretend to fight for the bouquet.
Bex’s eyes glittered as she watched me join the gaggle of women on the dance floor.
“Brilliant,” she said, strangely choked.
“This is happening.” She elbowed Dan, who got his camera out to start recording, and then made her way out in front of us.
Immediately the jostling began, and it became clear that there was no pretending here.
Dan’s Aunt Miriam adopted a rugby stance, crouching in front of us and bobbing side to side.
His niece Amber elbowed me out of the way with such a sharp dig I stumbled into her older sister, Nell, who glared such daggers I feared for my life.
I looked up to where I’d left Elliot, hoping to share an amused glance, but he’d clearly moved to get a better view.
He’d better not film this, I thought. It was bad enough that Dan was.
“You ready?” Bex called, pretending to stretch out like an athlete.
“Just do it!” screeched Aunt Miriam.
Bex nodded and turned her back to us, heaved the bouquet once, twice, but didn’t throw.
She then stopped and turned to face the waiting crowd, a thoughtful smile on her face.
I shared confused glances with the gaggle of women around me – what the hell was she doing?
Had she decided not to throw the flowers after all?
Then Bex’s eyes locked on to mine, and she walked towards me.
“Bex, what—?”
My best friend’s eyes were shining with tears as she pushed the bouquet into my hands. “I think this is for you,” she said.
Several things happened then; the party went very quiet, and I was aware of shuffling behind me, a couple of muted gasps from the crowd. I had a portent that something significant was about to happen. Clutching the fragrant flowers, I turned.
Elliot knelt before me, a small box in his hands. “Hi.”
I gasped, almost dropping the bouquet. Simultaneously, I felt like the ground was giving way beneath me, yet my head was soaring up among the clouds. I was a million things at once: I was speechlessly happy, I was lighter than air and I was breathlessly, gloriously shocked.
“Don’t be mad,” Elliot said.
“I’m not mad,” I told him, my voice little more than a hiccup. “Why would I be mad?”
“Because this was not on the checklist for the trip,” he said, and I laughed. “But I’m hoping you’ll make an exception in this case.”
“I make no promises,” I spluttered.
“Then I’ll take my chances.” Elliot took a breath. “When I asked Bex for your hand in marriage—”
My head whipped to look at Bex, who waved cheekily back at me. “You asked Bex?”
“Of course I did,” he said gently.