Page 91 of Hate You to Love You

‘Laney,’ I begin.

‘Yeah?’

‘I have an idea.’

chapter forty-five

‘Can you drive faster?’ I urge Sal.

‘Hey!’ he cries at me. ‘I’m looking to live through this.’

It’s Saturday, the day of Laney’s wedding and we’re travelling through Newtown at a snail’s pace. Cars are beeping at us, drivers frustrated with how slow Sal is going. It’s even more ironic given that the upbeat tempo of ‘The Power of Love’ by Huey Lewis & The News is blasting loudly from the car speaker.

He turns off King Street and begins to wind through the suburban streets of Enmore as we head into Marrickville.

‘I just want to make sure we have as much time as possible to pull this off,’ I tell him.

A few minutes later, we pull up onto the street of The Henson. If Laney needed to get married somewhere that was meaningful to her and Patrick, then there was no place better than the very location where we watched the two of them blossom into a couple over the years.

‘Are you sure that Laney will be okay with this?’ Sal asks as we push open the back gate and hurry into the courtyard. ‘I mean, they do good margaritas and fried chicken, but a wedding?’

‘The wedding is in a few hours,’ I reply, glancing at the time on my phone. ‘She’s never going to find a venue now. Let alone one at a reasonable price.’

Sal shrugs. ‘All right. If this is what we need to do, let’s do it.’

We move quickly through the courtyard, which is as full as the pub usually is on a Saturday. Families are gathered by the tables next to the playground. A group of guys in matching Hawaiian shirts are huddled close by. Chatter flows from each table and through the venue.

‘Question,’ Sal tugs at my shirt and pulls me to the side. ‘How are we supposed to convince the crowd, let alone the venue, to give us this space?’

‘Um,’ I gulp.

My attempts to get through to The Henson on the phone yesterday were met with an automated voicemail and my online booking requests were denied because of how large the wedding party was. Even when I raced down here yesterday afternoon after no one picked up my call, it was only the assistant manager on duty who informed me Becca wouldn’t be back in until today. This was our last shot to get this right.

‘Because of the power of love?’ I finally say.

Sal raises an eyebrow at me. ‘This is why you’re the romantic of the group.’

I smile at him as we run into the bar. There’s a long line of people waiting to order, and I sneak around the side to get one of the bartender’s attention.

‘Hey! There are people waiting,’ someone at the back of the line angrily shouts at me and Sal.

Sal holds up his hands as if he were being arrested.

‘Sorry,’ I yell back. ‘It’s an emergency.’

I ignore the commotion from the line and flag down a bartender.

‘Excuse me,’ I cry out with urgency. ‘Is Becca working today?’

One of the staff who is staring down the line of around ten dockets of drink orders coming through gives me the side eye. ‘Is there an issue?’

‘Um,’ I stutter. ‘It’s about a booking.’

The bartender peers their head behind the bar, and Becca steps out with a tray of drinks in her hand.

‘Carlos? Sal? It’s not a Monday.’

‘Hey Becca,’ I greet her. ‘We need to ask you a massive favour.’