‘Well, if anyone can sort it, you can, Lottie. You’re a star. I get the impression this wedding has been difficult for you.’
‘It’s only the haste of it that’s a challenge but it’ll all be sorted.’
‘Well, I do appreciate it. The revenue is much needed.’ Shayla eyed her. ‘How does seasonal hot chocolate from the café sound? With all the works on top of course. You seem a little frazzled.’
‘Sounds great. Thanks.’
While Shayla went to fetch the drinks, Lottie sank back in her chair and closed her eyes. No matter how much she tried to convince herself this wedding was as normal as any other, it didn’t feel normal at all.
Keegan’s requests weren’t even that bizarre compared to some of the demands she’d received in her previous job. She’d once commissioned bridesmaids’ ‘outfits’ for two Chihuahuas. It never ceased to amaze her how seemingly mild-mannered brides, grooms and their in-laws turned from nice, civil people into divas and despots as soon as the wedding was booked.
If she was brutally honest with herself, this was one of the more sensible weddings. Keegan was polite and seemed well aware of the issues created by such a last-minute wedding, but it still felt like a trial. Lottie had vastly underestimated how much effort she would require to show genuine enthusiasm for the event, not to mention she had to conduct it like a covert military operation in terms of secrecy.
She could handle keeping the surprise from Fiona, but deceiving Keegan was a big strain. She’d almost slipped up so many times, and let out little clues as to how close she and Connor had been. At any moment, she expected Keegan to have heard about their relationship from someone else and come charging up to Firholme, demanding to know why Lottie and Connor hadn’t told her the full story.
Shayla came back into the office with their reusable cups. ‘Here you go. Caramel syrup, marshmallows and edible gold stars for us both – because we’re more than worth it.’ She put the cups on the desk, with a grin.
‘Thanks. I needed this.’
Lottie ate some of the cream and marshmallows off the top, thinking she’d need to climb a hill to cancel out the calories. It was a delicious treat, though, and Shayla was a fun boss. She reminded herself how lucky she was to work at Firholme and that Connor’s wedding would be over by Christmas, and she could start to move on with her life again.
‘Lottie. Do you know if Jay is coming to the team meal at the pub on Wednesday night?’ Shayla asked.
‘No, I don’t,’ Lottie replied, after licking cream from her lips, thinking there was more chance of him landing on Mars.
‘Hmm. He keeps himself to himself, but it would be lovely if he would join in. It would help the rest of the guys bond with him. Do you think you could persuade him? He seems to talk to you as much as anyone.’
‘I – don’t know him that well and I have mentioned it but I can ask him if you like.’
‘Great. I don’t expect the Bull will be very busy but they still need some notice of numbers for a large party. They’re not well staffed this time of year.’
‘OK, I’ll mention it next time I see him. I can’t promise to persuade him, though.’
‘OK but if anyone can do it, I’m sure you can.’
Lottie finished her chocolate, convinced that Shayla had vastly overestimated her influence with Jay.
Lottie spent the next few days dealing with more arrangements for the wedding and finalising arrangements for the Edwardian-themed festive evening, which was being held at Firholme on the first Thursday of December. As the first really big public event at Firholme, Lottie hoped it would showcase Firholme to many more people for the coming year and Lottie had worked hard to make it happen. She was also in charge of organising the staff Christmas ball, to which Jay hadn’t RSVP’d … She reminded herself to broach the subject at the same time as the pub invite.
By four p.m., she had a headache from being hunched over staring at the screen and decided that some fresh air and exercise would be a better treatment than aspirin. She popped home, pulled on her boots and headed past the brightly lit café and outbuildings towards the forest. Her excuse was to see how the Christmas tree sales prep was going, but it would also be an opportunity to have another go at persuading Jay to come to the pub event. She took her phone, intending to take a few pictures and upload them to the Firholme blog and social media.
A large canvas banner had been hung at the entrance to the estate advertising that sales would be open at the weekend. Firholme’s own trees were now all in place, their lights glistening as dusk fell.
Chatter and laughter drifted from the small marquee, bedecked with coloured lights. Around it, the Christmas tree area itself was packed with felled trees, all with tags attached and illuminated by industrial lighting, which had been set up so that the public could access the area safely. Forestry workers in hi-vis gear and Santa hats buzzed around, dragging cut trees into rows, and putting drums of netting in place. It was a much bigger operation than Lottie had imagined. Next to the tent was a wooden hut with Santa’s Grotto marked on it.
She’d absolutely have to bring the twins to see it.
Jay was halfway up a stepladder, fixing a speaker in the gable of the tent. He also wore a Santa hat, which made Lottie smile and struck her as incongruous when he didn’t enjoy Christmas that much. ‘Can you pass me the other end of that cable?’ he said. ‘And can you get the electrician to double-check that all the lights and the sound system meet safety regs?’ he said to Kerr, his second in command. Kerr could
