‘FREYA?’ THE HOTEL’S events coordinator prompted when Freya didn’t answer her question.
‘I was just taking it all in,’ Freya said, rather than admit her mind was still back in the elevator. She looked around the ballroom. ‘Yes, Beth’s going to be very pleased.’
The tables were dressed in red but instead of having flowers as centrepieces Beth had decided on huge bows. There were bows on the chairs too. Freya’s carefully worded response told the hotel events coordinator that she had done an amazing job with terrible directions.
They shared another small smile and Freya nearly burst out laughing, a part of her wanting to tell the other woman about her little...er...encounter with the man they’d been admiring a few days ago. Instead, she headed off to the chapel where guests were starting to arrive, hugging the memory to herself and smiling. It had been fun and Freya had never had fun like that.
Freya knew that she was a private, prickly person.
She was, thanks to her psychology degree that lay languishing unused on her résumé, very self-aware. And her very self-aware self knew why she didn’t let her guard down.
Freya didn’t trust anyone with her feelings.
And walking towards her was yet another reason why.
Edward!
‘Freya, we have to stop meeting like this.’ He smiled.
‘Well, now that all our friends are married, we shall,’ Freya answered coolly.
‘Won’t I be getting an invite to yours?’ Edward asked.
‘That would be a no,’ Freya said.
‘Are you here with anyone?’
Freya was not going to prolong this conversation so she gave him a very tight smile and walked off.
Oh, how she loathed him.
He was married now and had twins but that hadn’t stopped him from trying to chat her up at the last wedding they’d been at. Freya knew, because she’d been dealing with the RSVPs, that Cathy, his wife, wasn’t attending tonight as one of their children was unwell.
Oh, a come-on from Edward she so did not need.
Not when she had Mr Room 2812, Freya thought with a sudden smile.
Of course she wouldn’t be taking him up on his offer but it had been such, such a nice offer to have that it got her through the wedding and then the meal.
The endless five-course meal at the top table.
It was hard to explain, even to herself, but set menus were for Freya the hardest.
Chicken or beef was served alternatively and Freya let out a small breath of relief that she was given chicken, which would have been her choice.
‘Would you mind...?’ Beth’s mother said. ‘I don’t like red meat.’
‘Of course.’ Freya smiled, to show that it didn’t matter in the least to her, and they swapped plates.
She had been worried about the meal at the wedding and had thought about talking to her friend, Mila, about it. She sometimes discussed her eating disorder with Mila, because Mila didn’t treat Freya as if she had two heads and tiptoe around her. But weddings were a bit of a touchy subject between Freya and Mila, given James had jilted her friend at the altar. Also, she was avoiding Mila a bit at the moment, because Freya still hadn’t told James that the Bright Hope Clinic charity was run by his ex-fiancée.
James didn’t even know they’d remained friends.
Oh, it was a long dinner and then came the speeches.
Freya glared at the cameraman, who was getting stuck into the champagne. She would have preferred Beth to have chosen someone else, but the wedding budget was getting tight, Beth had said. Freya had gently suggested losing a few bows but that hadn’t gone down well.
‘My wife and I have an extra surprise for you all,’ Neil said. ‘You’ll be thrilled to know that the stork arrived early....’
The whole room melted and clapped and the cameraman must have seen Freya’s stern glare because he panned to the guests and then back to the happy couple. Neil made a joke about more free cocktails for him on their cruise. This had Freya’s jaw tense.
Then the dancing started but Freya still couldn’t relax as Beth had yet more requests.
‘I want him to film messages for us from all the guests.’
‘I know that you do.’
‘But I don’t want the messages to just be about the baby,’ Beth said. ‘I want them mainly to be about me.’
Me, me, me, me, me, Freya thought as she nodded and smiled.
Freya took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and then Edward came over. ‘You’re looking gorgeous, Freya,’ he said.
She looked terrible, as Mr Room 2812 had so sexily pointed out!
‘Can I get you another drink?’ Edward offered.
‘No, thank you.’
‘You were blonde last time I saw you,’ he said. ‘You’ve gone back to brunette.’
‘Really?’ Freya’s response was sarcastic. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
‘I’m actually staying here tonight,’ Edward said. ‘How about a dance for old times’ sake?’
‘How about I throw this champagne in your face?’
Freya walked off with her drink and headed outside to drag the cool night air into her lungs. She loved LA in winter and she promised to take herself riding some time soon. It was her best method for relaxing and she had been introduced to it when she had been in rehab.
Freya never cried.
Not even in rehab had she let them break her but tonight she suddenly felt close.
It wasn’t Edward, she harboured no hidden feelings for him—well, no nice ones.
It was how they’d ended things that still stung, all these years on.
Her long stint in rehab had been spread far and wide across the media and everyone had thought she’d been on drugs. At the age of twenty-three, when they’d started dating, he’d asked about it and Freya had told him about her eating disorder.
It had been hard to reveal but she’d pushed on and had told him she was recovered, or healed, or whatever the best word was. But when she’d told him that she probably couldn’t have children he had, on the spot, dumped her and accused her of stringing him along. It had felt as if Edward had only been dating her on the assumption that one day she’d be pregnant.
‘I thought we were enjoying each other’s company,’ Freya had said. ‘Not looking for future mating partners.’
‘Well, it’s preferable to have that option,’ had been his callous response.
It had hurt, it had been such a horrible blow to her recovering self, but she had refused to let it plunge her back into hell.
Freya knew she should go back inside but she could not face Edward.
Did he think she’d have an affair, that married men were all that was left? Oh, no, she would rather, far rather, get in that elevator and...
Why not? Freya thought.
They’d both, in that brief exchange, stated that they were single.
And she’d promised this coming year to do more of the things she liked and to try new things.
No.
Freya