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And then Roula heard a voice.
It wasn’t necessarily a familiar voice, for it was very low, deep and measured, yet even if she couldn’t see him, she knew unmistakably it was Galen.
‘Well, I did warn Costa that I am the least suitable person for this role.’
Roula found that she wanted to move, to step out of the archway and glimpse her old friend.
Of course she couldn’t step out, but she listened intently as he spoke.
‘I am not good at jokes, nor am I sentimental, and neither do I share anecdotes...’
‘The very reasons I didn’t choose Leo,’ Costa quipped, and the small gathering laughed.
Yes, Roula could well imagine Leo had plenty of colourful stories—it would seem Galen was indeed a wise choice.
‘Mary...’
Roula heard Galen addressing the bride now, and lightly jesting with her.
‘If you are feeling exasperated, please know that you are not alone. If you need someone to speak with, I’ll completely understand. In truth, I have considered ending my friendship with Costa many times. A kitchen fire might not sound like a good reason,’ Galen said. ‘However, I was overseas and hadn’t even spent a night in my new apartment. Nor was I aware it was being used for a New Year’s Eve party...’
Roula smiled at the disgruntled edge to Galen’s voice.
‘Worse, though, was his attempt to paint over the fire damage. When you are back from your honeymoon I invite you to see what I mean.’
His serious tone had everyone really laughing, and Roula smiled again, because this intimate crowd would know that Galen was serious indeed—that brilliant mind let nothing go. He was affronted, only nicely so.
‘Still,’ Galen continued, ‘each time I consider calling it a day I am forced to reflect—and, really, a more loyal, annoying, generous, exasperating...’
She didn’t get to hear the rest as Beatrice had made her way over. ‘Yolanda’s starting to struggle. She’s asked if you can make up a bed...’
‘Sure.’ Roula nodded, for she needed no further explanation. Yolanda had MS, and the sudden wedding would be taking its toll, though she would never let it show. It would be wise that she rest during the lull in proceedings before the beach party.
Roula left then, and by the time Yolanda arrived there was a bed in the area between the offices—a space big enough to accommodate both the bed and her electric wheelchair.
‘Rest...’ Roula said as she quietly shut the door to the offices, and then winced as the receptionist called to her.
‘The Bridal Suite wants absinthe!’
‘Shh...’ Roula hushed her, because Stephanie could be rather loud. ‘They have it.’ Roula knew that because she had placed it there herself. ‘You do mean the Bridal Suite—notthe bridal party?’
‘Leo Arati.’
‘I’ll call him,’ Roula said, and promptly did so from her office, pulling his details up on the computer.
‘Roula!’ Leo greeted her warmly. ‘You remembered!’
Sure enough, he had just found it. She snapped off more chocolate, for there had been no time for lunch or a break.
‘What’s absinthe?’ Stephanie asked as she took another incoming call from a guest.
‘Nobody can remember!’ Roula laughed at her own joke, but then stopped smiling as the one problem she hadn’t anticipated arrived.
‘Temple Suite.’ Stephanie replaced the phone and rolled her eyes. ‘Nothappy!’
‘Did he say why?’
‘Not to lowly me—he wants managementnow! I said the guest services manager would be over shortly...’
