"This is your wedding, and you’re treating it like it’s a chore?"
I tuck my hair behind my ear, wondering how to make them understand. "It’s not like I haven’t dreamed of a traditional white wedding. But it’s secondary to…the fact that I can’t be away from the restaurant for too long."
Grace frowns. "Surely, you can take a few days off for it?”
"I’m a chef." I raise my shoulders. "I live and breathe by the services at the restaurant. I plan my life around the grocery deliveries and the time taken for preparations before the actual meal. My life is measured by the number of perfect dishes I can serve up."
There’s silence around the table.
"Look guys, I don’t expect you to understand how important it is to me to perfect my craft."
"I think I understand." Zoey looks at me with a half admiring, half-surprised look in her eyes. "I’m an editor. I know what it is to strive for this mythical concept of perfection in a book. One which is good to aspire to. But barely attainable."
Like the love of my husband to-be? I shove the thought aside. I’m not going to get philosophical right now. It’s more important to convince Grace and Zoey that my wedding is the real thing.
Phe draws down her eyebrows. “I’m invited to the ceremony, I take it?"
"You’re the reason we met." I squeeze her hand. "You have to be there."
"Hold on, you met because of Phe?" Grace pounces on that.
"How did I not know this?" Zoey frowns.
“To be fair, I didn’t tell anyone else then.” I hedge around the truth. Not wanting to mention that meeting him had unsettled me so much, it took me years to make sense of it. That even then, I never forgot him.
"It was a one-night stand?" Zoey’s eyes light up eagerly.
She must think this is like something out of the spicy romance novels she edits. Sadly, she’s going to be disappointed.
"It was not a one-night stand."
All three seem taken aback.
"I shouldn’t speculate about my brother’s sex life—" Phe makes a face. "But for some reason, I assumed the two of you slept together that night after he took you home."
"We didn’t." I drain my glass, look around, and when I catch the eye of the waitstaff, ask them to bring me another. I’m feeling lightheaded. The consequence of drinking on an empty stomach.
But dammit, this is my bachelorette party, and I plan to celebrate.
"Go on, tell us what happened." Zoey leans forward and places her elbows on the table between us.
"Nothing much happened."
"Enough happened that you two picked up where you left off five years later. That’s a lot of time for the spark between you two to have lasted." Grace’s gaze sharpens.
I look around the bar, then at them. It’s safe to talk about that night. It’s not covered by the NDA.
"We spoke all night. He showed me some of his favorite parts of London. The conversation was easy. It felt like we were on the same wavelength. Like he understood me. You know how rare that is."
All three nod.
"The number of dates I’ve been on where it’s clear within five minutes that the guy and I have nothing common…" Zoey tosses her head. "What you had with James seems like the stuff of dreams."
“It was like…” I gaze into the distance, reaching back to that night. “Like we were moving to music only we could hear. As if the world had faded away, and it was just the two of us there. Like we’re breathing the same air, moving to the same beat, without even trying.”
Even now, the emotions from how I felt that night crowd my throat. I swallow and look away.
“I’ve never felt anything like it with anyone else. Like I’d found my…soulmate.”
