One Night Only by Catherine Walsh

4

Annie ends the hotel tour by bringing me to my room before she heads off to find Paul. If I’m honest, I’m relieved to have some alone time, especially when I finally get the key card to work. Annie put me in a fancy suite across the hall from her and while I’d initially protested, I am now very glad she didn’t listen to me.

A four-poster bed takes up most of room, along with a fireplace, a beige love seat and a large closet. A low coffee table is topped with sunflowers and a glossy booklet detailing the history of the hotel and the area. The main attraction, however, besides the balcony overlooking the forest, is the standalone bathtub next to the windows, situated on its own little platform.

“Ridiculous,” I mutter, testing the faucets to make sure the thing is real.

I unpack and shower (in the adjoining bathroom and not the tub) but my power nap turns into an all-afternoon nap and I wake groggily a few hours later only to stub my toe on the nightstand when I try to get up.

Drinks. Dinner.

I go back and forth on my outfit. I’m not sure how fancy I’m supposed to be. I settle on heels, a fitted dress and my dressing-up jewelry. I go light on the makeup and dry my hair before curling the ends so it looks like I made an effort. I’m a natural mousy brown in the winter but tend to splurge on expensive highlights in the summer and I’m pleased with the caramel shimmer I see as I shake it out.

By the time I’m done, I’m running later than I’d like, so I’m relieved when I meet Paul in the hallway, hurriedly pulling on a dinner jacket.

“Thank God,” he says when he spots me. “It’s much better if I’m late with someone.”

“Don’t tell me you were worried about your outfit too.”

“Work stuff,” he grimaces as we head to the elevator. “Say nothing to Annie. I’m supposed to be on vacation.”

The lobby is full of voices from the nearby banquet room and I try to ignore the sudden bout of butterflies inside.

“A drinks reception,” Paul says. “Even though we’d all be happier in the pub.” His eyes slide to me. “I would say you can escape whenever you want to, but I’ve never known you to be the shy type.”

I smile at the vote of confidence. “I can handle myself,” I say. “Plus, I was promised at least two attractive cousins.”

“Two is it? Do they know this?”

“It will be a wonderful surprise.”

We enter the room, where two dozen or so people have already gathered, mingling over drinks. The only people I recognize are Annie’s parents who stand shyly by the wall, holding small plates of canapés. I know a few of her London friends are coming over for the day of the ceremony but even with them here, I’ll be her only other guest who predates Paul. Another party is planned next year for the American side of the family and, while I didn’t think anything of it when she told me, looking around at all the people now, I begin to understand Annie’s nerves.

I gaze out at the room as Paul plucks two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. Maybe I should have had him draw up a cheat sheet. “Alright,” I say as I take my first sip of the night. “Where do we start?”

“My Aunt Moira and Uncle Padraig,” he says, directing my attention to the couple nearest us. “Their children, all five of them, will be arriving over the next day or two. Their eldest, Connor, is also a groomsman and possibly very interested if you need a distraction,” he adds, grinning at me. “He’ll be here tomorrow. Uncle Harry runs the village pub we’ll be frequenting it a lot over the next few days. He’s talking to Annie’s parents, who you know. There’s my grandmother Jackie, if you could compliment the haircut?”

“On it.”

“My godfather Peter, cousin Sally… and then there’s my brother.” He says the last bit as if it’s a surprise and I turn to see Annie talking to a dark-haired man with his back to me. “Who I didn’t know had arrived.”

I take a sip of my drink, trying to remember all the names and faces as I follow him across the room. “Paul?”

“Sarah?”

“You wouldn’t by any chance have a recent picture of Connor, would you?”

Annie looks up at his laughter and we reach them just as his brother turns, a wide smile on his face.

And that’s when everything goes to hell.

My glass slips from my grasp as our eyes lock, crashing to the floor in a delicate shatter that has Paul throwing out his arm to stop me from stepping on it.

“Careful! You okay?”

I don’t answer him, too distracted by the person in front of me.

The man from the other night. My one-night stand.

For one flicker of a second, he’s as surprised as I am, but he masks it much quicker. I meanwhile don’t know whether I’m on some kind of terrible prank show or if the world really is falling out from under me.

“Not to worry,” a cheerful waitress says as she hurries to my side. “Happens all the time.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Paul says seeing as I’ve lost the ability to speak.

A million alarm bells go off in my head. All I want to do is grab Paul’s arm and march us out of the room so we can start this over again.

“Mind your step now,” the waitress says, gesturing us in a wide circle around the broken pieces. “I’ll get you another one,” she adds, mistaking the expression on my face.

I drag my gaze to her and nod numbly as Paul breaks from my side. “Who’s this stranger?” he asks, oblivious to my inner panic. The two brothers embrace as Annie pulls me further away from the glass.

“You look lovely,” she whispers.

The not-quite-a-stranger doesn’t take his eyes off me, staring over Paul’s shoulder with an expression I can’t decipher.

“Sarah,” Paul says as they break apart. “This is my brother, Declan. Declan, this is Sarah, Annie’s best friend and maid of honor.”

They all look my way and I feel like I’m in one of those dreams where you’re naked in public. A long second passes before I remember they’re all waiting for me.

“Nice to meet you,” I choke out, trying to communicate telepathically with him. Please go along with it. Please. I stick out my hand, less for a handshake and more in a silent plea. He grasps it without hesitation, his grip strong, and for a moment I think he’s going to play ball.

And then he smiles.

I know instantly I’m in trouble.

“Likewise,” he says. “Sarah, is it?” He’s still shaking my hand. I pull it from him, wiping my palm nervously on my dress. He doesn’t miss the movement. “Have we met?”

Shut up shut up shut up.

“I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” His smile widens at the warning on my face. “You look very familiar.”

“Just got one of those faces.”

“It’s possible,” Annie says, oblivious. “Declan’s in New York at the moment. He—”

“There you are!”

We all turn as an attractive older woman hurries over. She’s tiny, barely reaching my shoulder, with an elegant bob cut and an expensive-looking pink shawl draped around her shoulders.

“My mother,” Paul explains as she reaches us.

“I was wondering if you’d fallen asleep,” she chides, kissing Paul on the cheek before her warm gaze turns to me. “You must be Sarah. Annie’s told me so much about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Murphy.”

“Mary, please.” She looks me up and down and then nods as if satisfied with what she sees. “You’ve met everyone?”

Paul shoots me an apologetic smile. “We only just arrived, Mam.”

“Then you need to get mingling,” she says. “Both you and Annie. I’m sure Declan can look after Sarah.”

Declan’s eyes flick toward me but Mary continues before either of us can respond.

“It will be good for you to get to know each other. I’ve sat you two together for dinner so you can talk.”

Annie frowns. “I thought I put Sarah with me.”

“I made some seating adjustments,” Mary says with a dismissive hand. “Just for tonight.”

Paul shakes his head. “I think Sarah would be more comfortable if—”

“Nonsense,” she cries. “They’ll be grand, they have lots in common. They’re both in New York, they’re young, they’re single…” She trails off, the innocent look on her face fooling no one.

I realize what’s happening at the same time Declan does. I know this because he starts to laugh, a slightly hysterical sound that he immediately tries and fails to contain. Paul looks like he has a headache.

“I’m sorry,” Declan says, trying to turn it into a cough. “I’m just tired from the flight.”

Mary glares at him but before she can say anything more a bell rings for dinner and the rest of the guests start toward the restaurant. Mary grabs Declan’s arm without another word and tows him out of the room with Paul hot on their heels. Annie tries to follow but I snatch her hand, holding her to me.

“Annie?”

“Do you like your room?”

“My room is great. Is your future mother-in-law trying to set me up?”

“Of course not.”

“Annie!”

She gives up instantly. “Paul did mention she likes playing matchmaker. She’s not serious,” she adds at the look on my face. “At least I don’t think she is. And it’s not like Declan knew it was happening either.”

“That’s not the point!” My voice drops to a whisper as we enter the restaurant. It’s booked out for the party and beautifully decorated, but I barely notice it as I look across the room to where Declan sits, knocking back a glass of whiskey.

I can’t believe this is happening.

“You guys were supposed to be at my table,” Annie says, spotting him. She grows visibly worried and I try to push him to the back of my mind, refocusing on her.

“It will be fine,” I say. Annie. I am here for Annie. My own drama can wait. “We can cover more ground this way. I can talk you up to the wider family. Just… maybe ask Paul to say something to his mom? I don’t want her pushing this.”

“Of course,” Annie says, though she still looks a little nervous. Paul gestures her over to a table at the front. “I guess I’ll see you after dinner.”

“Tap your nose twice if you need me to come rescue you.”

She gives me a hopeful look. “At least you guys will have something to talk about.”

I force a smile. “Uh-huh.”

She squeezes my arm as she leaves and I try not to grab her hand again. Declan watches me from across the room as if he knows all I want to do is race after her. Which, okay I do want to do, but I’m not going to kick up a fuss on the first night.

As if reading my thoughts, Declan raises his drink in a mock salute and I force myself to move before I can change my mind, winding around the heavy wooden tables, straight toward him. He doesn’t take his eyes off me as I approach, cradling his now empty glass as he sits back in his chair, the picture of relaxation.

“Mam thinks you have excellent posture,” is all he says when I reach his side. “And you’re an architect. That’s up there with medicine or law in her books.”

I drag my chair out from under the table. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“One of us has to.” But his tone grows unsure. “You can’t think I planned it.”

“Of course not.”

There’s no way. He looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. And who could have predicted this? The biggest coincidence we should share is having the same birthday or bumping into each other on the subway. Not being in the same wedding party. Not having his mom trying to set us up. I fight down a sudden wave of embarrassment at Mary’s romantic plan. Though I feel a little better remembering he looked as ambushed as I felt. Maybe we can work together on this. It’s not like we have to turn it into a thing.

“Look,” I begin quietly. “Obviously, neither of us knew this was going to happen. If I’d known you were Paul’s brother, I would never have—”

“Slept with me?”

I rear back, checking to see if anyone was in earshot. “Could you keep your voice down?”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get into our family histories,” he says as I snap my napkin onto my lap. “But from what I recall you weren’t too interested in talking the last time we met.”

A woman squeezes past our chairs, tempering my response. “I would appreciate it if you could be cool about this,” I say once she’s gone. “At least for the dinner. I need to make a good impression for Annie’s sake.”

He laughs at that. “What do you think I’m going to do?”

“I mean it. Please, Declan.”

His eyes shoot to mine, one finger tracing the rim of the glass.

“What?” I ask, exasperated when he doesn’t respond.

“Nothing. I just like the way you say my name.”

“Your name?”

“I kind of wish I got you to say it the other night now.”

“Oh my God.”

“Now you did say that. Several times if I remember correctly.”

I give him my darkest look and he raises his hands, palms facing me. “No need to stab me with the butter knife. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

I’m beginning to suspect we have very different interpretations of what that means but other than pleading a headache and making an escape, I don’t really have a choice.

I watch silently as a waiter approaches with not one but two more glasses of whiskey. At first, I think Declan had ordered one for me but that idea soon flies out the window as he immediately draws the two glasses close to his plate.

“Are you planning on getting drunk tonight?”

“Planning?”

“Let me rephrase,” I say flatly. “Are you drunk?”

He pinches his thumb and forefinger together in response.

“Perfect,” I mutter.

He shrugs, taking a healthy sip from one of the glasses. “It’s a wedding.”

It’s a disaster. The potential to be one anyway.

I shift uneasily in my chair, watching the other tables fill up with guests. There’s a reason one-night stands are one-night stands. You’re not supposed to see each other again and, beyond a bit of small talk in the morning or the occasional booty call after, it’s worked pretty well for me. No messy emotions. No tangled threads.

This? This right here? A thread. A whole big yarn of it. And the last thing I need him to do is get himself drunk and broadcast what happened to all his friends and family. The family Annie wants so desperately to impress.

I take a long gulp from the water glass in front of me, only to choke on it as an elderly woman with heavy gold earrings sits to my right.

“Hello.” I smile. “I’m Sarah. Annie’s maid of honor.”

She gives me a brief nod and pushes the restaurant cutlery to one side, replacing it with a set from her purse.

Okay.

“I just flew in this morning,” I try, doing my best not to stare as she does the same with her water glass.

“Speak up,” Declan says in a low voice beside me.

“What?”

“My great aunt Eileen. She’s pretty deaf.”

I glance at him in surprise, but his attention is on the bread basket before us. I watch as he chooses two slices and adds one to my plate.

“I’m Sarah,” I repeat in a loud voice. “Annie’s maid of honor.”

The woman gives me a startled look. “Yes, I heard you the first time,” she says in normal tones before moving one chair away, sliding her knife and fork over with her. Declan gives a barely concealed snort beside me.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny. Oh relax,” he adds when I glare at him. “Aunt Eileen hates everyone. And from the look of Mam’s rejigged seating arrangement, there’s no one at this table you need to impress. Trust me.”

I don’t trust him at all.

I turn to the waitress as she reaches over to pour me a glass of wine. “You can leave the bottle. Thank you.”

Declan watches as I help myself to a generous amount. “That bad, huh?”

“I’m just catching up with you.”

“Well, you’re going to need a lot more than that,” he says, suddenly cheerful. “Uncle Trevor!”

A chinless man in an expensive-looking suit frowns at Declan as he takes a seat across from us.

“Which one are you?” he asks.

“Gerry’s youngest.”

“I thought you were in New York.”

“I’m visiting. My brother’s getting married, I don’t know if you heard.”

He grunts in response. “You got yourself a proper job yet?”

“I’ve got several,” Declan says ignoring my pointed look. It’s like he’s trying to rile the man up on purpose.

“You can’t rely on Harry’s charity for the rest of your life,” he warns. “You need security. You need to be able to provide for when you have a family. For when you have children.”

“Only when they can prove I’m the father.”

“Do you even have a pension?” he asks, his expression souring.

“I don’t need a pension,” Declan says. “Sure, climate change will kill us all in a few years anyway.”

Trevor’s face turns a deep shade of red. “You’re not spouting that conspiracy rubbish again, are you?”

My mouth drops open in surprise as Declan hands me my wineglass with a pleasant smile.

“Drink up,” he whispers before turning back to Trevor. “Have you met Sarah yet? Annie’s maid of honor.”