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‘For who?’
‘Well, for everyone. Megan would love it. I would, too.’
‘This is your idea of fun?’
She bristled. ‘Yes.’
‘Bloody hell.’ He scratched his bearded chin.
She clicked on the next slide, her enthusiasm rapidly waning. ‘The package includes a three-course meal, a string quartet and an evening buffet. I opted out of the disco.’
‘Why?’
‘Discos are tacky.’
‘God forbid we chose anything tacky.’ He took a slug of beer.
Was he being sarcastic?
Beth’s blood began to boil. She’d spent hours on this presentation, she didn’t need Matt Hardy criticising her every suggestion. ‘What’s your idea then?’ She folded her arms, determined to be as derisive about his plans as he’d been about hers. ‘I can’t wait to hear what you deem to beromantic. I’m assuming it involves strippers?’
He gave her a loaded look. ‘Do I look stupid?’
‘Well—’
He lifted his hand. ‘Okay, I walked into that one. No strippers, but also nothing so… theatrical,’ he said, nodding at her laptop. ‘I was thinking a small intimate venue, maybe in a barn or a marquee, with lantern lighting, displays of wild flowers and a swing band.’
Beth had wanted so much to laugh at his suggestions and dismiss his idea, but in truth, it sounded lovely. She wasn’t about to admit as much, instead forcing a short laugh. ‘And that’s your idea of romantic, is it?’
‘It is, yes.’ He held her gaze, and once again she felt something shift beneath her.
Thankfully, her phone rang, preventing her from relinquishing her carefully thought-out plans for a period-themed wedding.
‘It’s Megan,’ she said, lifting the phone to her ear.
Maybe she should ask her sister which option she’d prefer? But that would be telling the bride – something she wasn’t supposed to do.
‘Hi, Megan.’ She angled herself away from the hulk next to her. ‘How’s Greece?’
A loud sob reverberated down the line. ‘Poor Zac… I don’t want to hurt him… I love him.’ Hiccup. Was her sister drunk?
‘Megan? What’s wrong? Has something happened to Zac?’
Matt looked alarmed. ‘What’s wrong?’
Beth shushed him so she could hear her sister.
‘It’s me that’s the problem,’ her sister slurred. ‘I’m evil.’
Oh, crikey, what had Megan done? ‘What are you on about?’
‘I love him.’
‘I know you do.’ Beth’s pulse rate picked up. ‘What’s the problem?’
‘It was a long time ago. I was young and foolish… but he needs to know.’
‘What does he need to know?’
