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“Oh yeah. There’s probably tea running in his veins or something,” I joked.
She giggled. “Oh, I’m going to use that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I laughed. “So, how did you two meet?”
“Well,” she began, taking a deep breath. “I was in London for a business meeting. It was drizzly and gray and cold. My client had canceled on me at the last second, right when I got into town. My luggage had gotten lost so all I had for the moment were the clothes on my back and my purse. My hotel had somehow mixed up the dates and I had nowhere to stay for the night, and I was calling all the hotels in town trying to find a replacement. Just an awful day. So I walked into this pub at three in the afternoon, went to order a martini, and then this crazy-hot guy sits down next to me and tells me I don’t want a martini, I want a Guinness.”
“Oh, really?” I gasped, invested in the story.
She nodded. “Yep. Just ordered me a Guinness like it was nothing, like we had known each other for years. I got pretty annoyed, to be honest with you. I told him I didn’t even like beer, and he was so self-assured. He told me, ‘You’ll like this one.’”
“And did you?” I asked.
“Hell no,” she laughed, “I hated every drop. But Liam was so handsome and cool I drank it all anyway. We flirted all afternoon and into the evening. I can’t tell you how many drinks we had. Finally, we ended up leaving the bar and getting dinner together, and afterwards I realized I had never actually found a hotel room for the night. I was about to start panicking when Liam, smooth as can be, just suggested I stay over at his flat.”
“Wow, that is pretty damn smooth,” I chuckled.
“And it worked. I went to his place and we stayed up talking all night. Not even touching each other yet. Just talking. About everything and nothing at the same time. In the morning, I was supposed to fly home, but I ‘accidentally’ missed my flight,” she whispered. She gave me a wink and I laughed. “So then I ended up spending the whole weekend with him and we’ve been virtually inseparable ever since. Of course, I did eventually have to come back to the States, but we managed to keep up a semi-long distance relationship for months and months. We would each take turns flying across the Atlantic to spend time together. Finally, right when it was getting to be too painful having to say goodbye, he proposed to me in that same pub where we first met, and of course, I said yes.”
“Oh my God. That’s the sweetest love story,” I gushed genuinely. “It sounds like a movie or something, Celia.”
“I know, right?” she agreed. She had tears in her eyes but she dabbed at them with her napkin. “Ugh, I never used to cry. Liam’s made me such a softie. Damn him.”
“I’m really happy for you,” I told her. She smiled sweetly and patted my hands.
“I’m so happy for you, too. Gosh, I’m so sorry for talking so much about myself. How rude of me,” she apologized.
“No, I loved it. What a great story,” I assured her.
“You know how it is w
hen you’re in love. It’s the only thing you want to talk about,” she told me, misty-eyed. I nodded, feeling my heart sink. She was right. All I wanted to do right now was gush about how Chase made me feel the same way, about how every time he was close to me I felt like I was home. And I would have told her all of that, except that Liam came over and asked her to dance, even though hardly anyone else was dancing at the moment.
“Oh, you’ll have to excuse me,” Celia said to me. “Liam is the worst dancer on the planet. I can’t miss this.”
“Hey, you’re supposed to be supportive of my hobbies,” her fiance retorted. His accent was crisp and his smile genuine as he helped her up and led her away.
I watched the dancers for a little bit, and then I got up to head to the bathroom while Chase was getting our coats so we could leave. When I went to wash my hands, there was someone else in the bathroom-- a tall, statuesque blonde with brown eyes and the meanest expression I had ever seen. She was staring straight at me, and I could almost see the cartoon steam shooting out of her angry head.
“Can I help you?” I asked. I raised an eyebrow.
She smirked. “No. But I can help you.”
“Okay,” I began slowly, “what does that mean?”
She took a few aggressive steps forward and I instinctively stepped back. She looked pleased at how easy it was to intimidate me. “I know your marriage with Chase is a sham,” she hissed. My eyes went wide.
“Excuse me?” I whispered breathlessly. “Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Olivia Gleason. Chase’s ex-girlfriend. You know, the one that got away and all that. I’m sure he’s mumbled my name in his sleep or called out my name during sex with you or something. That’s me,” she jeered.
“That’s funny. Judging from that I would’ve assumed you had the same name as me, then,” I shot back. I crossed my arms over my chest. Her cruel smile faltered.
“Whatever. Just know that I will do everything in my power to end this ugly little charade you and Chase are putting on. I will destroy this for you. Chase doesn’t belong to you. He’s mine. He may be too blind to realize it now, but nobody knows him better than I do. So watch your back, bitch, because I am willing to do whatever it takes to get him back,” she threatened.
My heart was pounding as I quickly side-stepped her and rushed out of the bathroom to go find Chase. I kept glancing over my shoulder to see if she was following me, and to my relief she was not. But her words did follow me, echoing in my head like an alarm.
No matter what I did the rest of the weekend, I couldn’t shake Olivia’s words. Not when Chase kissed me goodbye on the jet. Not when I touched down at Peppertree. And not when I fell asleep alone at night.
