Page 21 of The Wedding Pact

Reaching for my phone, I see it’s already mid-morning. I really should get up and get moving. I’ve got another call to do before lunch with my lawyer, then I’ll need to do a final read-through of the contract that needs sending back by the end of today.

Then I can chill for a bit before we meet all the guests at this hen-and-stag-in-one thing.

Just the thought of that makes my stomach sink.

After taking a fast shower, I head to the kitchen diner to see that breakfast has been delivered and set out, as I requested. I wanted to have some time on my own to come round before having to make nice with the wedding party.

It looks as though Ida has already eaten. There’s an empty plate and mug by the sink in the kitchen area and clear spaces where she’s taken a pastry and some fruit.

There’s no sign of her though.

Perhaps she’s doing as I suggested and making her own fun right now.

I try not to let my mind wander too far with that thought and help myself to some breakfast, gulping down two mugs of coffee in a row in an attempt to get my brain firing.

Then I grab my laptop and phone and sit down at the dining table with my back to the floor-to-ceiling windows, so as not to get distracted by the view, and get to work.

A couple of hours later, I’m deep into reading the contract when I hear the sound of the doors swishing open behind me and I turn to see Ida coming into the villa.

She’s dressed in a sarong, over what looks like a bikini, and sandals. Her hair is up and covered by her baseball cap again and she’s wearing sunglasses that cover half of her face.

She looks a bit like a movie star who’s trying not to be recognised.

‘Hey. There you are,’ she says, walking towards where I’m sitting. ‘I got bored waiting for you to wake up and did my own thing. I didn’t think you’d mind.’

‘I don’t,’ I say. ‘I needed some time to get this contract read anyway.’ I gesture to my laptop. ‘What did you end up doing?’

Pulling out one of the chairs opposite me, she drops into it and when I look directly at her, I see myself reflected in her sunglasses.

‘I sat out on our deck for ages, reading my book and dozing, then I went for a walk around the island – just keeping to the beach, not going near the hotel,’ she says with emphasis, as if she’s aware I’d be worried about her bumping into people without me. ‘I thought we could explore over there together later.’ She leans in. ‘It’s absolutely incredible here. Such a beautiful place. You should take a look around yourself.’

‘I will. But later.’

She frowns. ‘Have you been working this whole time? With your back to this beautiful view?’

‘Yeah. I wanted to get things wrapped up so I can be fully present for the evening. I’m nearly done now. Just need to finish reading this contract and send it back.’ I run my hand over my hair, realising it must look a mess from all the times I’ve pushed my fingers through it while I’ve been reading.

‘Do you want to stop and eat something, at least?’ Ida asks.

‘Nah. I had a late breakfast and I’m not hungry. Go ahead and call for some food to be sent over if you like. There’s a menu by the phone over there,’ I say, waving towards a console table on the other side of the room.

She nods. ‘I might just get a salad to tide me over. We’re eating at the party tonight, right?’

‘Yeah. There’ll be a buffet,’ I say, distractedly. My head is still very much in the contract and I’m itching to get back to it.

Ida seems to intuit this because she smiles and walks over to the phone, then makes a call to our butler, asking for something on the menu to be delivered.

I tune her out and focus back on my screen.

It’s only a matter of minutes before there’s a ring on the bell and a server appears at the door with Ida’s salad. I try to ignore her as she goes to collect it, then comes to sit opposite me at the table to eat it, still wearing her sunglasses. I guess they must be prescription ones and she can’t be bothered to go and find her glasses.

I’m not sure what she’s ordered but I think it must be the loudest salad I’ve ever heard eaten in my life. There are several minutes of crunch, crunch, crunching as she works her way through it, giving little sighs of pleasure as she eats. These are only broken by her glugging away at a glass of juice she’s fetched from the fridge.

I keep my eyes on the screen, clenching my teeth so as not to ask her to pipe down.

I’m sure she doesn’t need to be eating it that loudly. I mean, I know it’s quiet in here and I’m hyper aware of her presence, but come on.

‘Yummy!’ she pronounces as she finishes the last mouthful and throws the knife and fork onto the now empty plate.