‘I think we should go and mingle soon.’ She steers away just as surely as she tries to steer away the conversation.
‘So, we weave our happy tale?’
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘Remind me what’s on the agenda next? It was a dance or two, when the band starts, right?
‘Yes, I think that’s what I said, but it’s not as if we—’
‘I think it was the ceremony, then eat,’ I begin to count the items off on my fingers. ‘A dance once, then be out of here by eight.’
‘It wasn’t set in stone,’ she says, her brows lowering.
‘Except the bit where we fuck like bunnies, right?’
‘Leave them all green with envy,’ she says with more determination than relish.
‘Anyone would think you were in charge of this little deception,’ she murmurs, pushing back her chair.
‘Oh, but I am,’ I answer with my best estimation of a wolfish grin. ‘Because I’m not the one with no knickers on.’
13
Archer
We make the rounds,speaking to those faces we recognise. Heather takes particular attention to be sure that Allison sees us talking to the big boss. Dressed in his morning suit, he really does resemble Sir Topham Hatt more now than ever. And he’s weirdly pleased to see Heather. Maybe she has chocolate in her bag?
I introduce her to the faces from E11even that I know, and though Heather smiles, it’s not hard to see how others have labelled her has standoffish. Only the most observant of people maybe would realise her reticent nature is actually anxiety.
‘Do you think they believe us?’ She whispers the question in my ear as we wander from another table.
‘Why wouldn’t they? I’m besotted with you.’
‘Be sensible.’ The way she dips her head to my shoulder probably looks like affection from the outside looking in. In actuality, it’s a reprimand, and the nearest she’ll come to headbutting me in public.
‘It’s true. And you’re treating me mean—’
‘Not helpful.’
‘—to keep me keen.’
‘How does that even work?’ she asks, bemused.
‘I’m not sure. Maybe you should ask Haydn.’
‘Urgh. Speaking of that devil, do you think he’s left?’ Her gaze cuts anxiously to mine.
‘I doubt it. At a wedding like this, there’s always a bunch that escape to the bar. He might be with that lot. Shall we add them to our list of people witnessing our love?’
‘Do we have to?’ she asks forlornly.
‘It’s up to you, but if you want to be certain everyone is singing the same tune, we should probably have a drink with them.’
‘Urgh. Okay.’
‘And if you want to be really sure, we could always up the ante a bit.’
‘I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I don’t have any underwear left to bet.’
