by Jill Snow
Conor’s loud laugh attracted a lot of attention.
“Sorry Dec, but you’re living the dream. Your movies are so hot, they sign you for the next one before the last one has been filmed.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Only slightly. You have more money than you know what to do with. It’s a far cry from where you grew up in Dublin and you know it.”
“I know and I should be grateful. It’s all I ever dreamed of. When I was a kid, I never thought I would be at a billionaire’s wedding, sipping champagne.”
“You need a real woman to share your life. Not one of those starlets who seem to hang off your arm at every outing. A girl like Emily. Someone who has her own focus in life.”
Where was he going to find a girl like that? It wasn’t like he could walk into a bar and meet someone. Everywhere he went he was recognized.
“That was some story with Adam wasn’t it?” Declan asked looking around the room, his eyes lighting up when they landed on Emily. “I can’t believe your brothers have kicked him out of the band.”
He didn’t want to think about his brothers. The Malones, born and bred in one of the most notorious areas in Dublin, had all done well. Seamus, Luke, Nathan and the youngest, Adam, were in a rock band touring all over the world. They had come so far from the tiny two bedroom house they had been born in. But Adam leaving the band under a cloud had caused a rift in the family. Although Declan loved all his siblings, Adam and himself had always shared a close bond.
“Come on Dec, Adam will be fine. The boys will be too. Having a new drummer seems to have put some spice back into them, but don’t tell Adam I said that. Now come on and show the room how the Irish love to party. Emily knows lots of girls.”
“Like Carrie?”
“See, you are still alive.” Conor’s eyes fizzed with merriment. “Although if you touch Carrie, Steven is likely to have something to say about that.”
Dec couldn’t help flinching. He’d known Steven for a couple of years. He was a great bloke, but not someone you would want to mess with.
“Dec, if you don’t find a woman to dance with and start enjoying yourself, I’ll find you someone.”
Dec wasn’t listening to Conor anymore. His gaze had caught that of a lovely young woman. She was tall and thin but in a healthy way, not the stick insect model type usually surrounding him. Her long, wavy hair hung loose around her shoulders, casual yet elegant at the same time. She looked uncomfortable, as if she wished she were anywhere else but there. She did seem to return his smile before turning away.
“Conor, who’s that?” Declan discretely pointed out the raven-haired woman.
“I think her name is Zoe. She’s either a nurse or a friend of Kathy, the head nurse at Flower Meadows. Gertie will know.”
“Gertie…that’s Emily’s grandmother, right?”
“Yes. She’s the opinionated, volatile woman who adores me,” Conor joked. “To think I once described her as a frail little old lady.”
Declan didn’t comment. He was intrigued by the woman, not just because she was good looking. He found himself wanting to know more about her.
“Can you get me an introduction?”
“No can do. My missus is calling me.”
“Under the thumb already. What will the boys say?” Declan teased.
“They can say what they like.” Conor clapped Declan on the back and disappeared, leaving Conor trying to locate the woman who’d caught his attention.
Chapter 5
Zoe pushed her way through the crowd as politely as possible. She had a smile plastered on her face, not because she was having an awful time. She wasn’t. It was fun but also hard. All the couples made her realize what she was missing out on. It would be lovely to have someone to share the ups and downs of her life with. Someone to laugh with.
She looked up, only to catch some guy giving her the look. She smiled, just as his eyes widened in interest, she turned as she heard her name being called.
“There you are. Are you having fun?”
“Fun? It’s a wedding, Kathy. You know how I feel about weddings.” She secretly loved seeing two people in love, but it was hard to watch without highlighting her own loneliness. With the garage and Dominic, she didn’t have time to date. Even if she did, the men weren’t exactly lining up to ask her out. Unless you counted creeps like Chris Lyons, which she didn’t.
“I feel out of place. We’re surrounded by rich, successful people.” She highly doubted that any of the other guests would drive a successful business into the ground in less than five years.
“They’re just the same as you and me. Just because someone is rich, doesn’t mean they’re better or happier.”
Zoe didn’t argue; there was no point. She thought differently than her aunt. A couple of thousand dollars would make a huge change in her life. These people would spend that on a new dress or suit.
“You should start dating.”
“Dating? Me? I have too much to do to think about men. In fact, I should be at the garage right now. Sorry Aunty Kathy, I better go.” She wasn’t exactly lying. She did need to spend time figuring out how to keep the garage afloat.
“Zoe, stay a while. Your parents wouldn’t want this life for you. You work all the hours around the clock. You don’t have to shoulder everything yourself. Especially not now Conor changed my life by giving me the manager job at Flower Meadows, not to mention the house.”
“He gave you that job as you are fabulous with the older people who live in Flower Meadows. You don’t make them feel like they are living in assisted living accommodation.”
“That is sweet of you to say but it’s easy to make people feel they are still independent and living in a proper home. Anyway, back to you. I have room in the house for Dominic to come live with us for a while. You can take a break. You were far too young to become a mom to him.”
An older woman walked toward them, saving Zoe from having that conversation.
“Kathy, there you are. Are you having a good time?”
“Yes Gertie. This is my niece, Zoe Clark. Zoe, this is Gertie. She’s a resident at Flower Meadows and the grandmother of the bride.”
Zoe smiled at the older lady whose bright blue eyes made her look much younger.
“Nice to meet you. I love Emily’s dress.”
“Do you dear? Why thank you. I made it.”
Shocked, Zoe didn’t know what to say. She had assumed the dress was purchased at some fancy store.
“Close your mouth dear or you will catch flies. So how come I never met you before? Kathy should have brought you to the home and introduced us.”
“I tried, but she’s always working. Never has a minute to herself,” Kathy answered.
“That’s a pity.” Gertie turned the full focus of her sparkly blue eyes on Zoe. “Young women like you should have time to enjoy yourselves. I kept telling my Emily that but she wouldn’t stop working. I just hope Conor can make her slow down.”
“Emily works?” Zoe opened her mouth before engaging her brain. How could she ask that?
“Yes, of course dear. How else would she pay her bills?” Gertie looked at Zoe, a quizzical expression in her eyes.
“I just assumed, well, I thought everyone here was rich.” Zoe’s discomfort caused her to stumble over her words. She should just get herself a shovel and dig the hole she was in bigger!
“Conor wasn’t born a billionaire either. He worked from the second he left school. In fact, I think he started his first company while still in college.”
Feeling embarrassed at unfairly writing off the married couple as being born with silver spoons in their mouths, Zoe quickly excused herself. She told herself she would stay another hour and then go home.
Chapter 6
She sipped the water in her glass, looking around her at the couples dancing. Her aunt was right. It was nice to get dressed up and get away for a while from her problems. She worried social services would find out how much time he
spent alone. But if she didn’t work such long hours, they would lose everything her parents had worked for
“Why so sad when a wedding is supposed to be a joyous occasion?”
Zoe looked up and her heart nearly stopped. It was the man from before.
“Pardon?” she said playing for time. She tried to smile but her brain wasn’t working as fast as normal.
“Forgive me for intruding on your thoughts, but would you like to dance?”
“No, thank you,” she replied, her heart beating faster. She didn’t know how to dance and would only step on his feet.
“Ah, go on. I don’t know anyone and I feel totally left out.”
He seemed to be playing up his accent, which was gorgeous. Did all Irish men speak like that?
“If you don’t dance with me, I may have to just dance with a pretend friend.”
“You wouldn’t.” She couldn’t help smiling at his antics.
“I would. Just like this.” He danced around in front of her, holding himself as if he had a partner. She couldn’t help laughing.
“I’ll keep going like this until you agree to dance with me,” he teased as he kept dancing. Other people had started to stare at them.
What could be the harm in dancing? Kathy would be happy she made the effort and then she could go home.
“One dance,” she said.
“Thank you.”
He held out his hand to lead her to the floor. He pulled her closer to him as they began to dance slowly, despite the fact the music was more suited to a fast set. He smelled of expensive cologne, his suit felt like a cashmere jacket she had once seen in a shop. He just screamed money.
She closed her eyes, an image of another man coming to her mind as they danced. He’d been rich too and handsome and funny and... She opened her eyes quickly, eager to stop that trip down memory lane.
She caught a glance at her nails, darn it you could still see the oil on her hands. She hoped he wouldn’t see them, but it seemed it was too late.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine, thanks.” So long as she didn’t get oil on his clothes. She doubted she could afford the dry cleaning bill.
“Have you hurt your hand? You seem to be studying it a lot. Or do you find me that boring?” He was still smiling. It was so hard to read him, she couldn’t work out if he was teasing or if he was insulted. Oh well, she might as well let him know now rather than later. Guys never wanted to date mechanics. Not rich men.
“Sorry, I still have oil residue on my fingers. Don’t worry though, it won’t come off on your clothes.” At least she hoped it wouldn’t.
“I’m not worried,” he laughed. “Did you break down on your way over here?”
He was being nice despite the threat to his clothes. “No, it’s from work. I’m a mechanic. A car mechanic,” she clarified.
“Really? Wow. That’s unusual.”
She waited for him to comment about girls not making good mechanics. She opened her mouth but he got there first.
“Do you know the Queen of England is a qualified mechanic?”
“Really?” She didn’t know much about Queen Elizabeth.
“Yes, she joined the services in the war and they trained her to become a mechanic. The story goes that one day her driver couldn’t get the car to start after some visit somewhere. Her Royal Highness took off her white gloves, told him to open the hood and she fixed whatever was wrong and off they drove. I wonder if she still has the oil residue on her hands, too.”
“You’re teasing me,” she smiled a little, despite herself.
“Not at all. That’s a true story. I read it in a newspaper.”
The earnest expression on his face made her laugh, and once she started, she couldn’t stop. Soon he joined in. He seemed nice. But he reminded her of him.
Chapter 7
“So are you a friend of the groom or the bride?” he asked.
“Neither.”
“A gatecrasher?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Zoe liked his sense of humor. “No. My aunt was invited, and I’m her guest.”
“So you don’t have a date?”
“No.” Zoe looked over his shoulder catching her aunt staring at her with a look of approval.
She tried to put a little distance between them, but he failed to take the hint. His hand was just at her waist. His other arm held her hand as if they were waltzing.
“I’m surprised. I would have thought a beautiful woman like you would have a string of admirers.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t want to get into a conversation about her lack of dates. She had taken ages to get over her last break up and then a lack of time not to mention money over took her life.
“Seriously, you stand out a mile in this crowd.”
She was glad she’d borrowed the dress she was wearing but was that a compliment? She thought it looked good. It was as different as possible from her usual wardrobe. The off the shoulder style suited her, according to Kathy. She felt graceful and feminine although she worried she would trip in the heels. Her shoes were the favorite part of her outfit, they looked like Cinderella slippers but they were higher than she usually wore. She’d picked them up at a second-hand store.
“I like the fact you wore red. Everyone else seems to have gone with more muted colors.”
She stared at him for a second trying to work out if he was insulting her. Did he think her dress wasn’t classy enough?
“I thought it looked nice,” she mumbled, wishing the dance were over.
“Nice? That’s the understatement of the year. You look incredible. Especially when you smile.”
Blushing, she looked over his shoulder at all the glamorous women dressed in the best designer clothes money could buy. He was either super smooth or extremely kind. She didn’t have enough experience with men to know which.
“You should smile all the time.”
She opened her mouth to say it was easy not to have to frown when you had enough cash, but that would have been rude. She stayed silent.
“So, do you come here often?” he asked.
“Seriously? Did you just ask me that?”
“I guess I’m out of practice. It’s been a while since I had a woman as gorgeous as you in my arms.”
She gave him a look. “I find that hard to believe.”
Instead of making him shut up, her skepticism seemed to encourage him.
“Does that mean you might like me a bit too?”
“Like you? I don’t know you. We’re just having one dance.”
“I bet you’d like me if you got to know me. Or so I’ve been told.”
His confidence should have been off-putting, but for some reason it wasn’t. Maybe because his eyes were dancing with laughter as if he were joking. “My mother swore I was nice.”
She smiled as he joked around.
”Much as I would love to stay and chat, I have to go.” She told herself she tried to move but his arms were holding her. In fact, she liked dancing with him. He made her feel good but him holding her like that was bringing up the past. She didn’t want to think about that now.
“Why? Will you turn into a pumpkin if you stay longer?”
She had to get away from him. He was being so friendly and complimentary, it would be easy to believe he was really interested in her. But she was a mechanic and he…she didn’t know what he did, but he wasn’t poor. That was obvious from his clothes.
“The coach turned into a pumpkin. Everyone knows that,” she responded with a smile.
“Not me. Fairy tales aren’t my forte.”
As if. He looked exactly like something out of a fairytale. Something her fairy godmother would conjure up. She normally didn’t like facial hair, but his almost-beard suited him.
“Can I take you home?”
It would be so easy to take the lift and hope he wanted to get to see her again. Fairy tales didn’t happen to her. Nightmares did. They had only just met, yet he had made her lau
gh and feel better than she had done in a long time. She hadn’t felt like this since…
“I don’t think that is wise.”
He was still holding her around her waist. She moved to one side. He was trying to explain away his behavior but she wouldn’t listen.
“I was only—”
She cut him off before she let her guard down and took up his kind offer.
“I’m sorry but I have to go. Thank you for the dance.”
She walked, almost ran off the dance floor, causing a few people to stare at her but she didn’t care. She couldn’t handle the memories, the feelings of rejection came flooding back. She had to get out of there before anyone saw her crying. She’d sworn she wouldn’t cry another tear over a man. Not even one who seemed as charming, funny and witty as the one she had left standing on the dance floor.
Chapter 8
Declan stood for a few seconds in the middle of the dance floor, stunned. Nobody had ever walked out on him before. It wasn’t the humiliation and embarrassment that bothered him though. It was the expression in her eyes. He had hurt her. How, he wasn’t sure, but the look of pain in her face wasn’t an act. He moved quickly through the throng of dancers, but he was too late. She had disappeared into thin air.
He couldn’t believe it. He was used to women throwing themselves at him and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t taken advantage of his fame in the early years. But not recently. The gossip columns would say differently, since his management company liked to hype up his image as a bad boy, claiming that it helped ratings. But he preferred to believe it was his talent.
“You look like you lost a thousand dollars and found a dime.”
The old woman’s voice intruded on his thoughts.