Chapter Three #2
“Exactly,” I said, giving the table one last approving glance.
The dining room gleamed, silver polished, glasses sparkling, every place setting aligned in perfect symmetry.
I slipped back into the kitchen, weaving through the staff with smooth precision.
The servers were already lined up along the stainless-steel counters, a small army in crisp black trousers, tailored white shirts, and aprons embroidered with the Langston Estate crest.
“Keep everything at the right temperature and have the first course ready the second they sit down,” I said, my voice even but edged with quiet authority. “Wine and water poured and topped up immediately. Cutlery straight, napkins crisp. Lunch starts on time, no excuses.”
One of the younger servers adjusted the collar of his shirt, which was starched enough to stand up on its own. Another smoothed down her immaculate blazer.
They all nodded in unison, their black bow ties and sleek ponytails giving the entire lineup a strangely glamorous air.
“Good,” I said, stepping aside as they moved into formation with smooth, silent efficiency. “Let’s give them a worthy welcome.”
And just like that, the room snapped into rhythm, plates lifted, glasses polished, chairs straightened, everyone falling into step as if choreographed.
Just the way I liked it.
The guests began to arrive only minutes later, laughter and polite chatter spilling into the air.
Caroline claimed her seat with her usual commanding energy, Emma sliding gracefully into the seat beside her like her emotional ballast. Margaret and Richard Harrington entered next, almost in sync, Margaret’s heels clicking like punctuation marks against the floor.
“Everything seems… satisfactory,” she said after a long scan of the room, the kind of remark that somehow felt both approval and insult in one.
Richard adjusted his cufflinks and gave Sophie a pointed look as she bounded through the doorway after them. “Good to see you, Sophie. Try not to break anything.”
Sophie beamed, spinning around on her toes. “This is incredible! I mean, this room, magnificent! Can we just take a moment to appreciate it?”
James, already settled opposite Caroline, lifted a brow and grinned. “Take a moment? Sophie, lunch isn’t going to wait while you admire the chandeliers.” He tipped his glass, signalling the server to pour his wine with effortless polish.
Elaine arrived next, her presence immediately transforming the room. She placed a familiar hand on James’s arm and smiled at everyone. “Hello, everyone. It’s wonderful to see you all together.”
“Perfect timing, Mum,” James said affectionately “We’ve just sat down.”
The servers moved with well-timed grace, guiding the remaining guests to their places. Caroline had Emma beside her, Sophie was strategically seated near the Harringtons, and Elaine was next to James.
Two seats remained empty, one for the best man, Ethan, and one for the groomsman, Lucas.
I subtly looked down at my watch, a glimmer of concern tightening my chest. We were seconds from running behind schedule.
Just as I was debating whether to begin without them, Ethan Prescott appeared soundlessly, like he’d materialised from thin air.
No fanfare, no footsteps, just there, leaning against the doorway with the kind of poise that suggested he’d never rushed for anything in his life.
Calm. Composed. Immaculately put together in a tailored grey blazer and open-collar shirt that somehow managed to look both corporate and expensive. His watch was sleek and understated, and the kind that costs as much as a family holiday.
He was certainly the kind of man who didn’t need to announce himself because people simply noticed when he arrived.
James spotted him first. “Ethan! Finally, you made it!”
Ethan grinned, tossing James a quick salute, relaxed, confident, the easy shorthand of two men who’d been through years of friendship, business, and probably a few disasters together. “You couldn’t keep me away, mate.”
He made his way around the table with unhurried confidence, greeting each guest with easy charm, a firm handshake here, a polite nod there, the kind of demeanour that made people instantly at ease.
He finally stepped towards Caroline, and her smile lifted in a way I hadn’t seen all morning. “Ethan,” she said, voice dropping into something gentler than her usual polished tone, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
He leaned in and brushed a soft kiss against her cheek.
“Come on,” she said, too bright, “sit down. We’re about to start.”
He took his seat with composure, moving like someone who belonged there.
I leaned towards James, keeping my voice low and professional. “Shall we start lunch, or wait for Mr Scott?”
James turned towards the doorway, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Let Lucas make an entrance. Lunch can wait five minutes. I’m curious to hear what his excuse is this time.”
Suppressing a sigh, I stepped discreetly to one side, giving the guests their space while mentally recalculating my timeline. Five minutes might not sound like much, but in my schedule, it was an eternity.
Margaret sat perfectly upright, her fingers tapping the polished wood in disapproval. “Five minutes, you say?” she asked, her tone smooth but sharp enough to slice through the room. “I trust it isn’t going to take any longer?”
Caroline lifted her hands in a small gesture of reassurance. “Mother, you know Lucas. He’ll be here.”
Margaret’s lips thinned into a disapproving line. “Yes. Well, I do hope he understands the importance of punctuality when it comes time for the wedding.”
I winced inwardly, picturing my flawless schedule already fraying at the edges.
With a subtle nod, I signalled to the servers to keep the wine and water flowing, anything to maintain the illusion of calm while I prepared to go soothe an increasingly impatient chef.
Then came the low, unmistakable growl of a sports car engine rumbling up the drive. James and Ethan exchanged a knowing look.
“That would be him,” Caroline said dryly.
Through the tall windows, a cherry-red Lamborghini came into view, glossy, gleaming, and wildly out of place among the historic elegance of the vineyard.
He slid it to a stop in a spray of gravel that would’ve given Noah heart palpitations if he’d been outside to see it.
Then Lucas strolled in like the room had been waiting for him, which, in reality it had.
Sunglasses still perched on his nose despite the very obvious lack of sun, leather jacket slung over one shoulder like a fashion ad come to life. His hair had that tousled “I woke up like this, but also used three styling products” vibe.
“Hello, everyone!” he called, voice booming with easy charm.
“I see the fun’s already started without me.
Sorry I’m late, I was delayed by a very unavoidable situation involving breakfast and a rooftop pool.
And then a small, completely unintentional misunderstanding with one of James’s security guys out front. ”
His eyes swept the room, landing first on Sophie. He leaned casually against a chair and shot her a playful wink. “Well, aren’t you all a delight. Glad to see the drive down here didn’t scare anyone off.”
Then his gaze shifted to me, still standing unobtrusively at the edge of the room, and his grin widened. “And who do we have here? Beautiful, in charge, and clearly running the show.”
Emma muttered under her breath, “Some people really have no filter…”
I didn’t miss a beat, keeping my tone calm and professional. “Hello, Mr Scott. I’m Holly. I’ll be making sure everything runs smoothly this week,” I said evenly, though I felt the flicker of irritation behind my polite smile.
Margaret exhaled through her nose, pinching the bridge as if warding off a headache. “I trust he plans to keep his volume to a minimum once lunch begins,” she said sweetly, though the edge in her voice could’ve frozen wine.
Lucas straightened immediately, slipping off his sunglasses and offering Margaret a respectful nod. “Of course, Mrs Harrington,” he said smoothly as he took his seat. “I wouldn’t dream of ruining lunch.”
Then, with a glance at the rest of the table, he added slyly, “But we are going to have some fun this week, right?”
James just shook his head, grinning, while Ethan’s smirk said everything without a word.
I slipped back into the kitchen to cue the servers that lunch was finally ready. The moment I pushed through the swinging doors, a wave of heat and the rich aroma of the first course, seared scallops on a sweet corn purée with a drizzle of local truffle oil, wrapped around me.
I exhaled slowly.
One thing was already crystal clear: this was going to be a very long week.