There are cars everywhere, nor just for the engagement party, but because the place is open to the public, so there are tourists and locals everywhere.
This place is a dream, as far as wedding venues go. It’s not what I’d have picked for myself, but if it came with Andy, I’d take it in a heartbeat.
We pull up in a gravelled area near a cluster of other cars. I climb out, stretching my legs, trying to shake off the pins and needles. If only I could get rid of the butterflies in my stomach so easily.
‘Wow. This place screams old money and generational trauma,’ JJ jokes.
‘Yeah, I’m not sure if it’s giving period drama or murder mystery,’ I reply.
‘We’ll see how the party plays out,’ she says with a laugh.
‘Welcome to Rosewood Grange,’ a man greets us with a smile. ‘Are you here for the engagement party?’
‘We are,’ I reply.
‘Please, follow me, I’ll show you to the private room where the drinks reception is being held,’ he tells us.
‘Drinks reception – finally someone speaking our language,’ JJ says, hooking her arm with mine.
We’re directed through a pair of French doors into the orangery, which is apparently where the engagement drinks are happening. It’s a light-filled room with glass walls on three sides, looking out over gardens.
A string quartet is tucked into a corner, playing a slowed-down, instrumental version of Disney songs – because of course.
Waiters drift by with trays of champagne and tiny, delicate things on skewers that look like food but like you would need to take down twenty of them to feel like you’d eaten.
It’s exactly the sort of place you get engaged, married or murdered, like JJ suggested. I guess the night is young.
And then I see him. Andy, in a green tweed suit, white shirt open at the collar, hair slightly messy like he’s been running his hand through it. He looks unfairly good. I’ve never seen him in a tweed suit before, but it’s really working for him.
Then there’s Cordelia, in her white dress (yep, a white dress, to her engagement party), hanging off his arm, throwing her head back as she laughs wildly at something. I swear, nothing is that funny.
They’re talking to a small group of people, I was going to usher JJ off towards the bar, but Andy has spotted us.
‘Whit!’ Andy calls out, lighting up when he spots me.
He breaks away from the group and comes towards us, arms open. I brace myself for impact.
‘You made it,’ he says, hugging me tightly. ‘I was beginning to think you’d got lost. What, did you let JJ drive?’
‘You know I plan on getting too drunk for that,’ JJ replies, laughing at his joke, taking her hug next.
‘Of course I made it,’ I say, smiling as brightly as I can.
‘Right, JJ, I need to introduce you to Tink,’ Andy says, leading the way.
I glance at JJ who, behind Andy’s back, pretends to stick two fingers down her throat.
‘Whitney!’ Cordelia says, taking both of my hands in both of hers. ‘I’m so happy you’re here.’
‘Hi,’ I say, hoping she can’t feel my palms sweating. ‘Congratulations. It’s so beautiful here.’
‘Thank you,’ she says, practically glowing. ‘We wanted something simple but elegant.’
JJ’s mouth twitches. I can tell she’s about half a second away from saying something, so I get in there first.
‘This is JJ,’ I tell her. ‘JJ, this is Cordelia.’
‘Lovely to finally put a face to the names,’ JJ replies.
