Chapter 37
Shannon
The spray tan gave her skin a sun-kissed sheen and the dark circles under her eyes had softened, while the bruises seemed less noticeable.
The dress slid over her moisturised skin, fastening at the back with a discreet zipper. She paired it with silver strappy sandals and a matching clutch, letting her hair fall loosely around her shoulders.
With a light dusting of bronzer, a swoosh of mascara, and a slick of gloss, Shannon was ready.
A smile graced her lips, a first in weeks. Jamie had become a happy memory, one best locked away.
He’d never find out about Niall’s threats to hurt his father. That chapter had ended.
George and Trixie were safe, and Jamie would have moved on. Everything had settled.
Despite the relief, her chest tightened with emotion and the vacant hole in her heart hadn’t healed. These days, she simply survived .
A car horn pulled her from her thoughts. The morning sun fought through a misty haze, and the chilly air seemed a degree milder than the past few days.
“Holy shit, Shan. Is that really you?” Harry’s voice rang out as he leaned out from the back of the car.
His smile stretched wide, the corners of his eyes creasing with genuine pride.
“You’re a pretty wee thing in a mucky hoody, but you sure scrub up well.”
His expression was like a father watching his daughter on her wedding day.
Shannon hoisted the dress to her shins and climbed into the back seat beside him. “Isn’t it amazing what a fake tan and a few bucks can do?”
“Shannon, that tan only brightens your already beautiful face. You always make me so damn proud.” His voice caught on the last word.
She glanced over at him. “Harry, are you crying?”
“I don’t cry.” His laugh wheezed, raspy from too many cigarettes. “My son’s an asshole. He missed out on the best damn thing he ever had—you.”
The car rolled forward, and his hand covered hers, giving it a firm squeeze. “You deserve better than him, anyway.”
A prickling unease crawled up her spine at the mention of Niall.
“Hmm,” she murmured, barely acknowledging his comment.
“Right, then,” Harry said, leaning forward, “I need a brandy. ”
He reached for the bottle on the shelf behind the driver and poured a generous measure for himself.
“I bought you champagne. You should take the day off tomorrow.”
Looking at his worn face, Shannon noticed the kindness and sincerity in his eyes. She let out a soft exhale, calling upon the strength within her to get through the day.
“Suppose I could spare one day off.” She smiled as the cork popped.
“I’m glad you came today, Shan. Maybe you and Mitch will hit it off. He’s always had an eye for you.”
He handed a glass of bubbles and sat back.
She tilted her head, meeting his gaze. “Don’t play matchmaker, Harry. You know my career comes first.”
He chuckled. “You’re certainly dedicated. I’ll give you that.”
Taking a sip of the champagne, Shannon’s lashes fluttered, her stomach flipping at the first taste of alcohol she’d had in a while.
“We’ve worked too hard to mess things up with boyfriends and all the drama that comes with them.”
“There will come a time, my dear Shannon, when you’ll need someone by your side. You can’t walk this world alone. We all need a companion.”
“Oh, Harry,” she laughed. “I’ve got you and Jackson to keep me company. That stew of yours beats any boyfriend bullshit. Anyway, you know me better than my own parents. ”
“I’m an old man, Shan. You need a guy who’ll take you out into the world and treat you like a princess.”
“I don’t need a guy, and I’m certainly not a princess.”
Harry’s eyes creased at the corners, and his smile grew warmer.
“You look like one today.” He clinked his glass against hers.
The world outside seemed to fade as they shared that quiet moment. Despite his compliments, Harry was oblivious to the storm swirling in her mind and the barriers she’d built around her heart.
“Have you heard from Niall?” he asked after a thoughtful beat.
Shannon’s stomach clenched .
“No... Do you think he’s been acting a bit off lately?” she asked, testing his reaction.
Harry took a long gulp of brandy.
“Yes. I’ve noticed.” He turned toward her, his expression now more serious, the lines of his face tight. “Look, Shannon... we need to talk.”
Her heart thumped harder in her chest.
The shift in his expression made her nervous.
“I want you to take over the yard instead of Niall. I’m going to train you to be my right hand. When the time comes, you’ll take over. He needs to find his own path. Horses are my passion, not his.”
His eyes held a sadness now, something raw and real. “He was never interested in it. Like his mother.”
Shannon’s heart sank. Like his mother ?
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come.
“I see so much of myself in you, Shannon,” he continued, the intensity of his gaze unwavering.
“Your drive, your determination, the care you have for the horses. I know what my son is like. I’m not blind.
He’d sell them off and put the yard up for sale.
I want you to be involved in the day-to-day running of things, including the finances. If you’re up for it?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Do you know about the drugs?”
A hint of relief washed over her as Harry nodded.
“I’ve seen the change in him over the years. He’s got his mother’s temper and addictive personality. He called me this morning, asking why I’d frozen his funds. I told him to check into rehab before I’d give him more. He knows now I’ve picked you to be my partner, not him.”
Shannon’s pulse quickened at his words. “You told him that?”
“I had to, Shannon. It’s better this way.” His voice softened, but the determination in it was clear. “He can do his own thing without me dragging him along with expectations he can’t meet.”
Her heart was a tangled mess of emotions. Gratitude for Harry’s faith in her, sadness for Niall, and a strange sense of relief that maybe, just maybe, she could finally take the reins in her own life.
“How long will he be gone for? Is the rehab clinic here in Northern Ireland, or somewhere overseas? How long do those programs usually last? Could be months, right?” All her thoughts spilled out in a rush.
Harry took another long gulp of brandy, his eyes narrowing as he turned toward her, an unfamiliar flash crossing his features. “You seem very interested in Niall.”
Damn it.
“Oh, you know, just curious,” she said, forcing a casual shrug. “He needed help and hearing that news would need time to process.”
The limo slowed in traffic, and Harry tipped the rest of his drink back, his eyes never leaving hers. “He’ll be gone for a few months. I’ve arranged a private rehab retreat in Switzerland.”
Shannon let out a heavy breath, a weight lift off her chest. This was it. Everything was falling into place. Niall would get help and leave her alone. And now she was more than just a stable hand. She had a voice…a position of power.
“I don’t know what to say, Harry.” She palmed her heart. “Other than thank you.”
“Oh, I know how much this means to you. It’s written all over your face. You deserve it, Shannon. I know you’ll handle it, no problem. We’ll celebrate today and start the day after tomorrow.”
After a while, the limo rolled to a stop and the driver, dressed in a black suit, opened the door with a respectful nod.
Shannon knocked back her champagne before stepping out onto the tarmac, her dress catching the winter sunlight .
The air was fresh and invigorating, sweeping over Shannon and filling her with a sense of freedom.
The heavy clouds had stayed far to the north, allowing the sun to shine over the surrounding grass. Raindrops from a recent rain shower glistened, adding an almost magical quality to the day as they strolled arm in arm toward the VIP entrance of the marquee.
Inside, the top-level terrace radiated opulence. The staff prepared a three-course luncheon, complete with fine wines, and set elegant tables using linen napkins and delicate pink flowers.
Soft, flowing fabric draped across the ceiling, contrasting with the sharp lines of the white rectangular couches.
They strategically positioned the space close to the parade ring and just a stone’s throw from the track, giving an unobstructed view of the action.
At the bar, Mitchell stood with a pint of Guinness in hand and his arm draped around the waist of a pretty brunette, soaking in the privilege.
“Harry! You made it!” Mitchell called out with a smirk, giving them a nod. “Fuck, Shannon, is that you? Jesus, you look stunning.”
Heat spread from her neck to her face.
“Drinks are on me today. Order whatever you like. I’ll catch up with you later.” He gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek before his gaze shifted away.
“I’ll grab you a glass of champagne,” Harry said, nudging her elbow.
The kiss had stirred something deep inside her. A reminder of what she had with Jamie, and what she still dreamed about.
It wasn’t just the kisses she missed, though. It was the texts, the late-night calls, the smile on Jamie’s face that lit her up inside, every time.
A tall flute of pink champagne interrupted her thoughts. “Here you go, Shan.”
The champagne was light and crisp, tasting like raspberries, and it cooled her throat as she took a sip. Today was a better day, and she was determined to enjoy it.
A sip turned into two, and soon she’d finished the whole glass.
“I needed that.” She grinned and set her glass on a passing waiter’s tray, signalling for another.
Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s scruffy jaw. “Thanks for the dress.”
His eyes softened, a mix of emotions flashing across his face. He reached out, giving her elbow a gentle squeeze as the waiter offered her another drink.
“Anytime,” he said, watching her guzzle her drink. “The horses are racing today, Shannon.”
Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. “Not us.”
“I plan to pick all the winners myself from the parade ring.” She smiled, the alcohol buzzing in her veins. “I’ll hit the toilets first.”
“I’ll get us a jug of water,” Harry said.
The excitement of Harry’s news, and the buzz of the event, had her spirits soaring. For the first time in too long, she felt alive, her body humming with energy.
She passed by the accessible toilet on her way to the washrooms, finding a long line of well-dressed women. Rather than force her way through the waiting crowd, she leant against the wall, hoping to avoid a conversation.
The champagne had a strange, light-headed effect on her. She took a deep breath, letting it settle in her chest, her pulse picking up with each exhale.
After a few moments, the door to the accessible toilet swung open.
“Play your cards right and I’ll let you fuck me later,” a woman purred, her words slithering from behind the broad, hard physique of a tall man dressed in a fitted pink shirt and snug grey trousers.
Shannon’s eyes darted up, and the joy that had filled her just moments ago vanished into the charged air.
Her breath caught in her throat as she froze, her heart beating wildly against her ribs.
Jamie.