Champagne buckets, hors d’oeuvres, cheese platters, and charcuterie boards are neatly arranged across the island bench and coffee table, while the oven fills the space with the delicious aroma of hot food. Two large glass doors reveal a deck and fenced-in courtyard beyond, with an outdoor heater, chairs and neatly arranged potted plants adding vivid pops of colour. Fairy lights are strung from the deck, weaving along the fences like twinkling fireflies. It’s late winter here in London, so we leave the doors closed to ward off the biting cold.
I spot Anna in the kitchen fiddling with a champagne cork until the distinctive pop sounds. “Cheers!” Anna yells, extending her hand and offering me a filled flute. I accept and clink it against hers before bringing it to my lips. A hint of liquid courage to calm my nerves. Anna pours another glass.
“Where’s Lucas?” She peers over my shoulder just as Lucas sidles up beside me.
He playfully bumps my shoulder with his, smirking down at me before reaching for his glass and tipping it towards mine in silent cheers. “To us,” he says, lifting it to his lips.
“To us,” I say, smiling.
The front door bursts open, hitting the wall with a loud bang, causing Gemma to wince as she makes her grand entrance.
“Crap! Sorry about your wall! Am I late? What can I do to help?” she asks as she sheds her coat and unwinds her scarf, revealing a short, black leather skirt and laced bodysuit. She’s paired the outfit with black pumps and cherry-red lips. Her blond hair is slicked back into a low bun, and her usual quirky glasses are perched on her nose. She looks sleek and sophisticated. I all but skip towards her with excitement, wrapping her in my arms for a tight hug.
“You aren’t late. You’re just in time for a drink! Anna opened the champagne.”
“Oh my God, April … wow. Luc, you better watch yourself because I’m Mrs. Gonna Steal Yo’ Girl!” Gemma exclaims as she holds my hands, taking me in.
“I know. I’m going to have to watch her this evening,” Lucas says with a smile.
“You clean up pretty good yourself,” I say to Gemma. She beams at me as we approach Anna, who offers her a glass of bubbly.
“Gemma, are you wearing a lingerie bodysuit to our best friend’s engagement party?” Anna questions.
“Anna, come on. Do I wear anything else?” she asks, as if the answer is obvious.
“She’s in her ho era,” I reply, taking another sip.
“Ah yes, the best era. I remember it well.” Anna nods.
Gemma turns her attention to Lucas. “Speaking of ho, is James coming?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows.
“That’s way too close to home, Gemma,” I say, my voice laced with disapproval.
I quickly avert my gaze, scrunching my nose in confusion. Why do I feel so protective of James? The thought of him with Gemma doesn’t sit right.
I take a long pull of my champagne. I don’t want to explore why it bothers me.
James is Lucas’s younger brother, but the two are cut from different cloths. Lucas is romantic and light-hearted—the kind of man who favours crisp shirts, listens to ’80s hits, and fills notebooks with poetry. James, however, is broody and dark, wears ripped jeans and band T-shirts, listens to metal and rock, and plays the bass guitar. Even though the brothers aren’t the closest of friends, due to their differing tastes and five-year age gap, I’ve always got along reasonably well with James, despite his reserved nature.
Admittedly, there’s something alluring about his mysterious vibe, and I know I’m not the only one drawn to his dark charm.
Lucas strolls over to the sound system, fiddling with buttons and his phone until the first few notes of a song start to play. As the familiar tune fills the room, Anna, Gemma, and I exchange excited glances—we all love this song. Giggling, we finish our champagne and bustle around, belting out lyrics while setting up food and drinks before the guests arrive.
Chapter 2
April
As our nearest and dearest pour in, the room comes to life with laughter and celebration. Lucas and me circle the space, ensuring we spend time with every guest. Now and then, we’re separated to make sure drinks are refilled, food is stocked, and everyone is having a good time.
With relief, Lucas’s parents, Caroline and Peter, arrive and take over the role of hosts, and I couldn’t be more grateful for the reprieve. Caroline has been incredibly kind to me since her son and I have been together, treating me as if I were her own daughter. She’s nurturing and sweet, and I feel privileged to have such a wonderful female role model in my life, after my own mother.
Caroline approaches me as I pluck a packet of dried apricots out of the pantry and tear it open to refill the charcuterie board.
“You shouldn’t be working at your engagement party, honey. Let me worry about the food. Here,” she says, extending her hand for the packet, “you go and enjoy yourself.”
“It’s no trouble, I’m happy to,” I reply.
“My dear, I promise you no one is worrying about the apricots,” she says as she grabs the packet. She makes a gentle shooing motion with her hands. “Go on.”
