Something cold drops to my chest, settling in the V of the neckline. My fingers rise to touch as my eyes do the same in the mirror.
‘You don’t mind, do you? I’ve never really seen you wearing jewellery.’
Tiny stud earrings. My (former) engagement ring. A watch before the battery died. I’m not exactly what you call fancy.
‘It’s beautiful.’ I swallow thickly and blink back the sudden and very uncomfortable onset of tears as the stone sparkles, catching the light overhead. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘You don’t have to say anything. Except perhaps that you’ll think of me when you wear it.’
‘Of course I will, silly.’ Something cold shimmers over my skin in response to his phrasing. I turn again, pressing myself against him, absorbing the heat and the solid feel of him.
‘Come on.’ One quick hug and he’s pulling away. ‘Beckett and Olivia only get you for today. Afterwards, you’re all mine. But it’s almost eight o’clock. You said you wanted to get going before then.’
‘Yeah, I suppose I’d better.’ I smooth my dress over my hips and wonder if Sandy the housekeeper has any drier sheets to help with the cling. One last quick turn to the mirror and the light catches the pendant pressed against my chest. It’s so lovely, and such a surprise. And there’s one thing for sure; this isn’t moissanite.
I take the chance that Olivia and Beckett are too busy to notice that I arrive in James’s car, mainly because I’m a little late, but also because I don’t want to walk.
I have my iPad, the modern-day clipboard, with the all-important list recorded by priority and, though I’m wearing the same dress for the ceremony and reception, I have running shoes on my feet for now.
I follow the ant-like trail of staff around to the back of the house and start checking off my tasks.
‘Are you the wedding coordinator?’ I’m inspecting the tables in the marquee when I turn to the voice to find a girl in a white shirt and black apron, her blue hair pulled up in a high ponytail. One of the wait staff, brought along by the caterers, I’d guess.
‘Yep, that’s me.’ Sort of.
‘Oh, great.’ She smiles, her shoulders visibly sagging with relief. ‘My boss told me to go find the person in charge, but I could only find this tall guy in a suit who snarled at me when I asked him if he could help.’
‘Sharp jaw? A sharp suit? A tiny bit arrogant?’
‘Good looking and kind of scary.’ She nods.
‘Ah, that would be the groom.’
‘Ah. Shit. I mean, sugar. Anyway.’ She slides her hands into the back, titling back on her heels. ‘Is there any way you could come and have a word with him? My boss, I mean. He reckons the cables at the workstation aren’t regulation.
‘Absolutely. No probs, lead on, Macduff!’ This is my jam—lead me to your crisis and let me fix it.
‘Oh, no. I’m not Macduff. My name’s Naomi. My mates call me Nomes. Ironically, like. On account of me being nearly six foot tall.’
Nomes chatters all the way to the catering manager who, once reassured, goes about his workday. I straighten the hem of my dress and huff my iPad to my chest, and with a grin, return to the next task on my list, but before I can make it back to the tent, I’m intercepted by the florist.
* * *
‘There you are?’ This time, Heather finds me, I’m touching up my makeup and I don’t mind saying, I’m bloody knackered.
‘Don’t tell me; a troop of monkeys have turned up and they’re expecting to entertain the Queen?’
Her mouth hitches at one side. ‘I’d ask if you’ve dropped acid but for the bun situation.’
‘Bun?’ As I realise what she’s talking about, I close my compact with a snap. ‘Shush! You do realise where we are, don’t you?’
‘Relax. Everyone’s outside. Well, everyone who’s not working, that is.’ Her gaze drops to my shoes. ‘It’s a brave choice, designer dress and adidas, but I’m digging it.’
‘I’ve got shoes somewhere. I just didn’t want to end up with sore feet.’
‘Or ankles like an elephant.’
‘What are you talking about?’
