I gulped at the look in his eye. There was nothing friendly or polite about his gaze. If anything, his eyes seemed to pierce mine with unrestrained desire and determination.
Oh, boy. I was so screwed.
CHAPTER 7
"Okay,guys!"Iclappedmy hands to get the attention of the giggling ladies in front of me. I felt like an activity coordinator on a cruise ship. All that was missing was a clipboard.
"We have appointments booked at Abbott's Spa and Salon at three. That means you have half an hour to down your pre's before our taxis arrive."
Today was Amelia's bachelorette party, and we were all well on our way to getting tipsy. Although some of us had already reached that pinnacle. I looked on in amusement as the ever-graceful bride-to-be stumbled on her four-inch heels. I made a mental note to pack a pair of ballet flats for her. Knowing Amelia, I was sure she would need it by the end of the night.
She looked gorgeous in a short white dress—something I tried to advise her against, given the red wine she was sipping—but my friend would not be deterred. Amelia wanted to appear as bridal as possible. Her look was completed with a small veil attached to a plastic tiara and a light pink sash across her body that read: "Soon To Be Mrs Byrne." For some reason, she looked classy and fucking fantastic instead of cheap and tacky. Her eyes were sparkling with joy, and she had her telltale wine flush. I made another mental note to pack a bottle of water.
Ruth ambled over with a half-drunk bottle of champagne in her hand. "Gracie!" she shouted. Your glass is empty; we can't have that."
I laughed and obligingly held my glass out while Ruth attempted to pour some of the amber liquid. I winced when I felt a splash on my shoe.
"Soooo..." Ruth started as she swigged out of the bottle. "Was it my imagination, or were you and Harrison looking a little cozy the other night?" She wiggled her brows for effect.
I rolled my eyes. "Not you, too," I groaned.
I hadn't seen Harrison since the night he dropped me off and exploded bombshell after bombshell on me. To be fair, I was busy with wedding planning, and we had to put off our next reunion meeting until after the bachelor and bachelorette parties were done. But, truthfully, I was also actively avoiding him.
He had started sending me some texts, which had thrown me off. They were innocent enough:How are you? What are you up to today?
I was tempted to ignore them, but since I had promised casual friendliness with him, I sent him back short, to-the-point answers.
Liam was also having his bachelor party tonight, and I knew that at some point, the two parties were planning on meeting up at O'Ryan's. My body thrummed with nervousness and, admittedly, anticipation for the night ahead. I was definitely going to need some liquid courage if I was going to see Harrison again.
"What do you mean?" Ruth asked, swaying on her feet.
"He dropped me off after our meeting, and we chatted." Ruth's eyebrows raised comically. "He wanted to clear the air about what went down years ago."
"You mean when he bullied you?" She bluntly asked.
"Yeah," I nodded. "He apologized, and we put it behind us. Amelia, of course, had to be looking out the window when he pulled up, so she's been bugging me, thinking something is going on. It'snot." I firmly stated when Ruth opened her mouth.
She shrugged as she ran her thumb around the rim of the bottle. "You never know," she murmured cryptically. Before I could ask what she meant, Hannah, Amelia's younger sister, shouted, "Shots!"
Ruth squealed and quickly returned to the kitchen where the other six girls were waiting.
After one shot each—I was the party pooper that cut them off—we bundled into two taxis and headed off to the salon for our pre-booked manicures and pedicures.
Abbott's Spa and Salon—formerlyAbbott's Hair and Nails—had received a considerable makeover. The front of the shop was bright white, and the word "Abbott's" was written in big, black, lit-up cursive script. "Salon and Spa" were written in smaller, plain back writing underneath. Two small potted trees were outside, framing each side of the door. It looked fancy as fuck.
"Wow," I breathed, impressed. "This place looks great now."
Fiona, Amelia's cousin, opened the door for us all. "Yeah, once Jessica took over, she gave the whole place a much-needed facelift. She even has clients in Levin who come here."
Levin was the next town over. We were friendly rivals, so the place must be super reputable if Jessica was luring customers from there.
When I made the reservation, I knew that Jessica ran Abbott's. I had no choice. It wasn't like there were other competitors I could go to. Sure, I could probably make a booking in Levin, but that seemed like a big overreaction. Plus, I liked to support local businesses. And who knows, Jessica may not even be here, and if she was, she may have had a personality adjustment like Harrison and James. Stranger things have happened.
I approached the young girl behind the reception desk as we all crowded into the store.
"Hi, welcome to Abbot's Salon and Spa," she enthused. "I'm guessing by the look of you all, you're the party of Byrne?"
"Yes", I answered with a smile. The girls were loud and boisterous, so I attempted to counteract this by sounding sober and calm.
