Marrying Mr. Darcy (Love Manor #2) - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,42

sort of thing wasn’t at all uncommon. Upholding the family name mattered so much more than it does now.”

“Was that the Dark Ages?” I ask with a wry smile.

“Granny’s not that old. Well, if eighty is the new seventy. We had her big birthday bash while they were filming Dating Mr. Darcy in Texas. Granny was most put out that Sebastian, her favorite grandchild, wasn’t there.” She rolls her eyes at me.

“How big a ‘birthday bash’ does an eighty-year-old have, exactly? I mean, was it a tea and crumpet affair or something more Girls Gone Wild?” I giggle at the thought of Geraldine in a bikini, hanging off some buff guy at a beach, spilling her beer onto the golden sand as she laughs.

“OMG, stop! It was a cocktail party. Granny sat on a chair like she was the Queen receiving her guests. It was actually quite fun, considering I lowered the average age of the partygoer by a good couple of decades.”

The cab comes to a stop, and as I peer out the window, my nerves kick up. “We must be here. Why am I suddenly nervous?”

Who am I kidding? I know exactly why. Geraldine is going to be there along with all the Huntington-Ross clan and their circle of friends, all judging me and finding me wanting.

It’s going to be a super fun night.

“Come on,” Zara says as she swings her legs out of the cab. “Let’s get a quick G & T into you and you’ll feel a lot better about everything, you’ll see.”

Once inside, Zara takes my hand and leads me to a makeshift bar where a server dressed in a white shirt and black waistcoat greets her like an old friend.

“Zara! How’ve you been?” he asks as she kisses his cheek.

“Fabulous, Jimmy. This is Sebastian’s fiancée, Emma.”

Jimmy raises his eyebrows at me. “The famous Emma, eh?”

“Not famous,” I reply as I paste on a smile. “Just Emma.”

“Well, Just Emma, what can I get you to drink?”

Zara chimes in with, “We’ll have two G & Ts, thanks, Jim, and make them extra strong, okay?”

He flashes her his handsome grin. “I’ve got you covered.”

As Jimmy fixes our drinks, I ask quietly, “How do you know Jimmy?”

“Somewhere or other. I can’t really remember. Once you’ve lived here as long as I have, you get to know everyone, even if you get to escape to London as often as I do.”

“Well, you have got a job there.”

“That’s the fabulous thing about being my own boss. Za-Za Interiors operates when and where it suits me.”

Oh, to be from the right side of the tracks. If Penny and I had that attitude, Timothy would never have got off the ground, and I’d still be stuck in a dead-end job that sucked the life from me on a daily basis.

Zara points out some people in the crowd. “That’s Uncle Hector. He’s on Mum’s side of the family, so not nearly as cray-cray as the Huntington-Ross side. He’s married to Serafina, the gorgeous Italian woman over there in the black sequin dress.”

I look in the direction she’s pointing. “Zara, half the room is in black.”

I glance down at my own dress. It’s red and pretty and, up until about ten seconds ago, felt appropriate for a fundraiser slash exhibition opening slash impress the relatives event. What had felt colorful and fun when I got dressed now makes me feel like the poor cousin in a dress her mom sewed on her rickety, old machine.

“Serafina’s the one that looks like Amal Clooney. She’s next to the guy who’s channeling Rick Astley.”

“Rick who?”

“80's popstar. Total British icon. Never Gonna Give You Up?”

“I’m never gonna give you up, either, girl,” I jest.

She nudges me with her elbow as my eyes find a tall, willowy woman listening closely to something a guy in coral-colored pants hitched up almost to his nipple line is saying.

“See the guy they’re with? The one in white with the silver puffer jacket and eyepatch? He’s the artist. His name is Rasmus.”

“Does he have a last name?”

She shakes her head. “Just Rasmus. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

We collect our drinks from Jimmy, who grins and winks at Zara, and make our way through the crowd.

“Emma! Zara! Hello, you two gorgeous things, you,” Jilly says, greeting us both with her trademark m-wah, m-wah air kisses. She’s also dressed in a black dress, hers with a silver trim and skinny belt. “Zara, I’m with your mummy and granny over here. Come and join us.”

My nerves

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024