He’s at the bar, on a stool, hunched over his pint.
I take a moment to sort myself out, wiping the sweat from my forehead and shrugging off my coat. He does a double take as I appear next to him.
“Emily!” he says, looking baffled as I pull over another stool to plonk myself next to him. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I might find you somewhere you feel hidden,” I explain. “And don’t worry, I’m alone. I haven’t told any of the family where you are.”
He nods and waits while I assure the barman I don’t want anything.
“How are you doing?” I ask, watching him pick at the corner of a beer mat. “You OK?”
He shrugs. “I’ve been better.”
“Me too.”
He looks up at me. “You didn’t know either?”
“Actually, I found out a few days ago. And there’s a few things I need to tell you, Jonathan. I haven’t been honest.”
“Apparently you’re not the only one.” He sighs.
“My name isn’t Emily.”
“Sorry?”
“My name isn’t Emily,” I repeat matter-of-factly. “I’m Sophie Breeze. I’m a professional bridesmaid who was hired by Lady Meade to help Cordelia cope with the stress of the wedding. That’s why you hadn’t heard of or met me before the engagement party.”
He blinks at me. When he doesn’t say anything, I continue, “I appreciate that it’s a lot to—”
“What’s a professional bridesmaid?” he interrupts, frowning.
“I’m hired by brides, sometimes couples, in this case the bride’s mother, to help them with certain tasks and make sure they can enjoy the process of organizing a wedding. Most of the time I’m hired secretly—the bride doesn’t tell anyone that I’m a professional, and together we come up with a believable story and afake name so that I can play a role, pretend to be a friend or a distant relation.”
“You’re… you’re not Emily?”
“No. I’m Sophie.”
“A professional bridesmaid,” he says slowly.
“That’s right.”
“Cordelia hired you.”
“Technically, her mother hired me. Cordelia didn’t love the idea, but she warmed to it eventually. Well, she warmed to me. Anyway, I’m telling you this because the rest of the family know now, so I thought you should, too.”
“They didn’t know?”
“Just Lady Meade and Cordelia. Her father and Tom knew nothing about it.”
“Right. OK.” He exhales, swiftly finishing the rest of his pint and gesturing to the barman for another. “That’s a lot of new information. It would seem I’m learning quite a bit about my fiancée today.”
“Most of my brides don’t tell their other halves they’ve hired me,” I say firmly. “It’s important to the process. The majority also don’t tell their parents. It’s preferable that only the bride and I are in on the secret. The fewer people who know, the better I can do my job. It isn’t anything to do with trust between the couple.”
He snorts, reaching for his fresh pint and taking a large swig before slamming it back down on the bar. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure how much trust exists between me and Cordelia anyway.”
“I’m not going to apologize for lying to you, Jonathan,” I tell him. “I was doing my job. It’s just how it is.”
He shrugs, focusing on the beer. “OK.”
