by M. J. O'Shea
“Believe me,” August said. “I’d rather stay at home.”
Will snorted. “Have you seen the hot best friend? I’m sure August is hating life.”
August kicked him under the table. He thought he might have to tell Will soon. He’d been putting it off for so long, Will was going to be crushed that he’d been kept out of the loop.
The rest of the team members did a rundown of their statuses on various projects, some pictures were shown from the previous week’s events, and everyone was about to stand and get to work for the day when Helena gestured for them to remain seated.
“I hadn’t said anything about it before today because we were definitely in the exceedingly tentative stages, but no longer. There will officially be a Helena Preston Events New York opening in September of this year.”
Everyone in the office applauded. Helena held up her hand.
“Also, I’d really like to be sure of the person I put in my place in the New York office, so it will be someone from this office. I trust you folks with my most prized clients, and I’m sure I can do the same in the new office. I haven’t made any certain decisions yet, although I have a few candidates in mind. I will definitely accept bribes in the form of chocolates and flowers.” She winked at the general crowd.
New York….
It wasn’t Boston, but it also wasn’t the other side of the ocean. It was much, much closer to home. August wondered if he was one of the people on Helena’s list. Surely he had to be. He and Will had pulled off more events in the past two years than two of the other teams combined. It sounded good. Bittersweet to leave everything he’d built up over the past eight years, but good. Really good. August started planning his chocolate purchases. And of course how he could knock Helena’s socks off with every single event until she made her offer.
The meeting was over after that. Everyone shuffled off to their offices to get ready for the day. He had some last-minute catering questions to deal with for the gallery opening, and he and Will were going to meet with a new florist that they wanted to add to the roster. He had a busy day. It was hard not to get lost in thoughts of New York and starting over… and maybe escaping from a certain someone who he couldn’t stop thinking about. Not since the phone call the week before.
By the time August sat in his office chair and put his half-full latte down, Will was already there.
“You know it’s you, don’t you,” he said without preamble.
“What?”
“You’re going to get the New York office. You deserve it more than the rest of us.”
“She said candidates. With an s.”
“Right. It’s going to be you.”
“Will….”
August knew Will had always wanted to live in the US. About as much as August had wanted to get out of it when he’d been a kid.
“It’s okay,” Will said. “You’re just going to have to hire me as your second-in-command when you become the boss.”
He hadn’t actually thought of it that way, not in the five minutes since the idea was presented, anyway. “You think Helena would let both of us go?” He’d hire Will in a second. If August was lucky enough to get the New York location, there wasn’t anyone on earth he’d trust more to help him run it.
“She can’t separate us. We’re the dream team. Platonic life partners. Together till the end.”
“The dream team of wedding planning. An illustrious title for sure.”
“Hey, August?”
“Yeah?”
“When we get the New York office, because you know we will, can we say no weddings?”
August laughed out loud at that. “I’ll make sure to tell Helena you said so.”
IT was a gorgeous sunny morning. Of course. Still chilly in early March but beautiful—probably to contrast with how Christopher felt completely and absolutely nauseated. He hadn’t even been able to shove breakfast down. They were going to have to stop at Starbucks or something once he’d managed to calm his stomach. Christopher was waiting outside Helena Preston for Libby to fetch August and his assistant, Louise. The other half of his team, Will, who’d been their original planner, was supposed to come as well, but apparently there had been some sort of family emergency.
Christopher could’ve used the buffer.
Things were actually pretty good with August. He’d managed to get him texting back fairly quickly, and August had let him call to talk a number of times in the past few weeks. He was afraid it was all going to go to shit the second they got to Longwick. His parents were there, which was unusual for the last of winter. Typically they spent the cold, wet days of March in the Mediterranean somewhere with their friends, or on a tropical island. Christopher couldn’t be so lucky this time. Libby’s and Edward’s parents were going to be around as well. One big happy, tense family. Lovely.
He had Fergus in the car with him as well. He knew August loved dogs, and he hoped Louise would be okay with him. He didn’t want to leave his boy cooped up with the housekeeper again. Fergus tended to protest his absence by not eating.
“We’re ready!” Libby crowed. She came out of the office with August and his bleach-blonde assistant, Louise, who were both carrying overnight bags on their shoulders.
It just kind of hit him that he’d be in the same house with August that night, sleeping under the same roof. Sure he’d known it, but knowing it and feeling it in his bones were two different things. His driver put their bags in the boot of the car and then held the door open for the three of them to slide in.
“Oh, who do we have here?” August cooed as soon as he got in the car.
It was a very predictable reaction. So maybe Christopher also kind of used his adorable dog for cute points. Sue him.
“This is Fergus. He doesn’t really like being left alone with the housekeeper. Last time, he ignored me for nearly three days when I got home.”
August chuckled, actually laughed at something Christopher said. Christopher felt the warmth from that in his belly.
“Leave it to you to raise the world’s most codependent dog.”
Christopher covered Fergus’s ears. “You’re not codependent, are you, Fergs? You just love your papa.”
Fergus made a high whining sound and flopped down on the floor of the car. Louise and Libby climbed in and sat across from him and August. The door shut, and all of a sudden the car was rather silent.
Thirty seconds down, only five hours to go.
The drive wasn’t bad on the whole. Long but painless. It was punctuated by Louise and Libby’s enthusiastic conversation, which Christopher and August chimed in on occasionally. They stopped for lunch and coffee but mostly stayed on the road. Christopher grew more nervous the closer they got to his hometown of Falmouth, and Longwick as well. He missed the countryside more than he could say, the familiar hills and the rocky cliffs. He loved Cornwall with all his heart; it just didn’t feel right to live there anymore. His family had never stayed there all year—there were holidays in the best places, seasonal activities in London, and for him school at Eton. But none of those places had ever made Christopher happy like being home. At least not until he’d moved into the residence halls at Oxford and met the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. An American boy at that. He might not have known at the time, but that moment had changed his life. He was determined to do everything in his power to get back to it.
“We’ve about an hour left,” Libby said. “I always forget how long this drive is.”
“Why don’t you take the train?” Louise asked.
“It’s not any shorter,” Christopher said. “The best bet is taking a helicopter, but there weren’t any available for four passengers today.”
“What, your family doesn’t own one?” August asked.
Louise gave him a glare. He didn’t blame her. That had to have sounded incredibly rude since she didn’t know his and August’s history.
Christopher simply laughed. “It’s getting repaired,” he said. “Next time we’ll take
the jet.”
Libby kicked him. “There isn’t really a jet. Or a helicopter,” she said to Louise. “Ignore him.”
IT was afternoon by the time they got to Longwick. It had been a very long trip. Longer than usual. Christopher knew he had to pull August aside. He hadn’t managed to get the nerve to tell him yet that Christopher’s parents didn’t know who he was. He wished he knew how August would react. His time came when the car was stopped in front of the main doors and Libby and Louise had already started walking to the entrance.
“August,” Christopher said.
August stopped and turned to look at him. “Yes?”
“My parents. They’re here.”
“Okay. Is that going to be a huge problem?”
Christopher shook his head. “No. Um, it won’t. They don’t know who you are.”
“What do you mean? They knew exactly who I was back in school.”
“They don’t know your name, just that you were American. And they’ve never seen you.”
“How is that possible?” August asked.
“It is.”
He waited for the moment when August figured out that it was possible because Christopher had made sure it happened. August had never come to Longwick; his parents had never visited him at school. Christopher had kept August far, far away from his other world except for the few boys who he’d known at school. A big part of him wished he could continue that.
“Oh.” August looked at the ground. “Fantastic. At least they won’t be glaring at me the entire time.”
“I wouldn’t let them do that.”
“Right. Of course. You wouldn’t.” August shook his head. “Let’s get this thing over with. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I’m out of your ancestral home and back in London where I belong.”
“This isn’t ancestral,” Christopher said with a snort. “My great-great-grandfather was railroad money. We had to buy our way in.”
“Well, you’re still in. And I’m still the help.”
August didn’t let him say anything else. He just strode over to where the girls and Fergus were busily greeting Hughes.
THE estate was beautiful—August would give them that. It was Elizabethan by the look of it, huge and looming, covered in red brick and about thirty chimneys that August could see. He could picture the long drive decked out in pale colors and old-fashioned ribbons and posts. There would be no need to go modern in a house like this one. It probably even had a great hall for the ceremony unless somebody had the brilliant idea sometime in the past to convert it to something else.
He remembered Libby saying something about how her mother-in-law preferred an outdoor wedding and began scanning the grounds for the perfect place for a marquee. It was far easier to be in work mode than let himself feel bad about the fact that Christopher had never even told his parents August’s name when August’s parents knew nearly everything he did about Christopher.
“Are you coming, August?” Libby called. “Edward is having tea in the library with my mum and his. They’d all like to meet you.”
August was already dreading meeting Edward, along with all the parents. Sure, if it was in his office, on his turf, then he was the professional. But here? He’d been preparing for it ever since Christopher suggested the venue, and he still wasn’t ready. He had to admit, though, as much as it hurt, it was probably easier that Christopher’s parents didn’t know who he was. They could treat him like the hired help and it would be no big deal.
He smiled at Libby, though, like he wasn’t thinking about a million awkward things, and followed her into the house.
“Christopher’s parents are out for the day,” Libby said quietly. August looked at her, and she gave him a sympathetic look. She knew. At least she knew enough.
“It’s okay,” he muttered. “They didn’t know who I was anyway.”
Libby made a small gasping sound. August shrugged.
“Did you know who I was?”
“No. Not until recently.”
“Then why would they? Christopher managed to keep me hidden away from everyone he knew.”
Libby simply shook her head. “Come meet Edward and my parents, then. They’ve heard all about you from me. They’re going to love you.”
He followed Libby down the hall. August started to see why everyone seemed to automatically do her bidding. She was just so enthusiastic it was hard not to love her and want to make her happy.
The library was something out of everyone’s British fantasies. It was high-ceilinged and paneled in dark, shiny wood. There were nearly two stories of books, mostly old and leather bound. There were actual tapestries and cozy chairs and a stone fireplace that was big enough to walk into. August had been in his share of stately homes in his wedding planning days, but the library at Longwick had to be the best room he’d been in yet.
“Mummy, Edward, Elise. This is August. He’s the genius planner I’ve been telling you about,” Libby enthused.
The three looks he got in return weren’t quite so enthusiastic. Libby’s mother smiled at him politely after she gave her daughter a kiss.
“Lovely to meet you,” she said. “You can call me Claire.” She shook August’s hand.
“I thought we were working with Helena herself,” Edward’s mom said. “I was promised the owner.”
Libby gave August an apologetic look.
“Ms. Preston doesn’t plan anymore, ma’am. She hasn’t for years. She thought I was the best person to handle the event.”
“Hmm” was all she said in return. She did deign to shake his hand, though. August was very glad it was him and not Will. Will’s professionalism would’ve been tested by how much he most certainly would’ve hated Mrs. Shackleton.
Edward was… Edward. He was somehow exactly how August expected him to be. He was actually exactly like August expected him and Libby to be. Libby had surprised him in the best of ways. Edward was not August’s favorite person in the world, and August found himself wondering if he deserved Libby. Since they’d apparently been together since the dawn of time, Libby must think so. Of course, August also had to wonder why they’d waited to get married for so long if they’d been dating since they were kids.
It wasn’t his business, though. Never would be.
Edward’s and Libby’s mothers were more of the same as the day went by. Slightly on the snobby side, or more than slightly in Edward’s mother’s case, but still willing to hear August’s ideas about the ceremony and the reception afterward. He sank into his well-worn role of the professional with ease and tried to pretend Christopher wasn’t following along with them while they wandered the house and grounds.
After they toured the grounds and had dinner, August suffered through fairly awkward drinks with all three sets of parents, including Christopher’s, who’d returned from their day away from the house. He decided it was definitely better for them not to know who he was to Christopher, or at least who he had been. They mostly ignored him and Louise after a few quick comments about the wedding planning, and talked to Edward and Christopher and the other two couples. At least it left him, Louise, and Libby to talk in the corner. He loved Libby more and more every day he spent with her. If the situation weren’t nearly impossible, she’d be someone he would very much like to stay friends with.
They finally went up to the rooms they’d been shown to earlier. August planned to get a few e-mails sent and then go to sleep. He hoped they’d have an early start back to the city come morning. He wasn’t especially keen to linger, beautiful as the countryside was.
He’d finished his e-mails and was about to plug his phone in when he realized he’d left it down in the drawing room where they’d been having drinks earlier.
“Shit.”
The last thing August wanted was to roam around a gorgeous but slightly creepy four-hundred-year-old house in the dark. He was tempted to simply leave his phone down there. Almost. He pulled on a pair of sandals and a jumper over his T-shirt and walked across the expan
se of the huge guest room to the doorway.
Here goes….
The hallway was very, very dark. August wished he had a flashlight with him. At least once he managed to find his way down to the drawing room and got his phone, he could use the flashlight app on it. If the battery hadn’t already died.
He crept down the hallway toward what he thought were the main stairs. The house had about ten different sets of stairs that he’d counted. Probably far more that he had yet to see. His heart thumped louder than usual in his chest. August didn’t think he was a chicken, but the cavernous old house was getting to him. He turned the corner to make his way down the stairs and ran into something solid and warm. August nearly screamed, but a hand clapped over his mouth.
“It’s me. Christopher. Don’t scream.” Christopher slowly removed his hand from August’s mouth.
“What are you doing out here?” August asked.
“Wanted a snack.” Christopher held up a sandwich. “What are you doing out here?”
“I left my phone downstairs. I’m trying not to get lost. Or eaten by some medieval ghost.”
Christopher snorted. “Let me walk you down. The beheaded wife of the first owner of this house will leave you alone that way. Probably. She likes me.”
It was so Christopher and so dickhead of him to tease August. He pushed him a little and scowled. “Shut up.”
Christopher grinned. “Follow me.”
They were mostly quiet on the trip down to the drawing room, and once August had his phone in his hand, he had to resist the urge to sprint back up the stairs into the safety of his bedroom.
“It’s really strange having you here,” Christopher whispered when they were about halfway up the stairs.
August’s eyesight had adjusted to the dark. He could easily see Christopher’s shirtless figure in front of him. The rest of the hallway? Not quite so much.
“But I like it. Livens the old place right up.”
“I remember you saying you loved it here back when we were at school.” Of course when Christopher had mentioned loving his family’s country house, he had left out the part where it was half the size of Buckingham Palace. It wasn’t until nearly the end when August found out just how rich Christopher was. It should’ve been a warning bell. He’d made the mistake of ignoring it.