The Wedding Invite (Lakeview) (Lakeview Contemporary Romance Book 6) (15 page)

N
icola drove home afterwards
, her thoughts going a mile a minute. It was so strange, speaking to Dan again after all this time. And the conversation had been almost … well, almost
casual
, considering.

And he had seen the article in
Mode
, too. She wondered if Dan realised that Motiv8 was Ken’s enterprise, as he hadn’t actually been mentioned by name in the article. What would Ken think of all this, she wondered. She’d certainly tell him about Dan’s phone call anyway, and that they had arranged a meeting. He wouldn’t be too pleased, but she was certain he would understand that she had to see Dan and more importantly,
why
she had to see him.

She wished she could tell him immediately, but he was over at his dad’s tonight. Nicola smiled. The Harris’s were a close family, and Ken was an extremely dutiful son. She had met Pat and Clodagh Harris many times over the last few months. She had been a little concerned at the beginning that they might have a problem with her being a divorcee and all that, but she needn’t have worried.

Still, she thought, turning into her driveway, she couldn’t be blamed for worrying – after all she had to put up with from the Hunts.

Nicola recalled how, at the beginning of her and Dan’s relationship, she had been so looking forward to meeting his parents. She had no idea what kind of reception awaited her when, one Sunday, he suggested that they pop up to Longford to see them. By then, Nicola was sure that Dan was The One. There was no question about it. She loved this man with all her heart, and she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. And as far as Nicola knew, Dan felt exactly the same.

So it was with great excitement, and not an ounce of trepidation, that she jumped at the chance to meet Mr and Mrs Hunt for the very first time.

Actually thinking back on it now, Nicola remembered that the first time hadn’t been all that bad.

The Hunt residence was situated just outside Longford town, and Nicola’s immediate impression upon approach was that someone in the family – probably Mrs Hunt – must be an adept gardener. The grounds were magnificent. A host of rhododendron bushes in full spring bloom, some of which must have been about fifteen feet tall, bordered the cobbled driveway – and the house itself, an impressive mock-Swiss design, was swathed with mature clematis intertwined with a heavy vine creeper. Towering cordylines, eucalyptus and monkey-puzzles surrounded the perimeter, and various species of ornamental grass flourished dramatically from underneath the windowsills. To Nicola, who was idealistic about gardening but in reality couldn’t keep potted geraniums alive, the place was an absolute paradise.

Judging by the silver Mercedes S-class and the Cherokee jeep parked in front of the house, the Hunts weren’t short of a bob or two. Dan had told her that, although now close to retirement, his father was managing director of a building firm and that his mother had never worked.

“I know it’s unfashionable these days,” he had said, “but Mum never wanted to be anything other than a housewife. Both her parents were doctors and rarely at home and Mum decided that she didn’t want that for me – she wanted to be there and have a home-cooked meal waiting for me after school each day.”

Nicola nodded. Her mother had always been there for her and her brother, Jack, too.

“Well, here we are,” Dan announced, as they pulled up outside the house. Nicola stepped out of the car and looked around. She had brought some handmade chocolates and a small bunch of lilies as a gift for Dan’s mum, but the arrangement looked pathetic against the lush blooms surrounding the house.

Dan took her hand and gave an excited smile as they entered the hallway.

“Mum, Dad – it’s me, where are you?” he shouted.

“Well, hello there.” An older, more distinguished, but equally attractive version of Dan appeared in the doorway. “You must be the famous Nicola,” he said, extending a hand.

As they shook hands she sensed that Jarlath Hunt must have been one hell of a charmer in his younger days. And although his hairline had receded to nothing and his face was lined and weathered, she thought that Dan’s father was, even now, a very attractive man. It must be the eyes, she thought. It had been Dan’s ice-blue gaze that had melted Nicola’s heart in the first place, and now an older, but altogether colder version of that gaze was concentrating on her at that very moment.

“Welcome to our home,” he said formally. “My wife is in the kitchen, just through there.”

Upon first impression, Nicola thought that Annabel Hunt looked considerably older than her husband, although she wasn’t sure if it was the poorly applied make-up or the shapeless clothes that gave her that idea. She was tall and wiry, and her white-blonde hair had obviously been freshly styled, but did nothing to disguise her drawn features. When shaking hands, Mrs Hunt looked distinctly unfriendly, and Nicola wondered if perhaps this visit had been forced upon, rather than been invited by her.

“You have a very beautiful home, Mrs Hunt,” she said, hoping to break the ice, which seemed thicker than the iceberg that sank the
Titanic,
“and your garden is truly amazing – it must have taken years of great care to have it looking like that.”

“You’ll have to ask Jarlath about that,” she replied dismissively. “It’s always been his baby and I don’t have much time for gardens myself.” The edge to her tone was unmistakable, and Nicola knew instantly that Mrs Hunt didn’t like her. She wondered then if it was just her, or was Dan’s mother distrustful of all her son’s girlfriends?

“Well, it’s very beautiful, anyway,” she said with a polite smile as Mrs Hunt turned away and went back to chopping vegetables.

“Nic, will you have a glass of wine, or something?” Dan asked her.

She smiled with relief. “I’d love a small one, thanks.”

“Dad?”

“Drinking in the middle of the day, Dan? I don’t think so.”

Nicola looked at him. Oh, well,
excuuuse
me, she thought. You’d swear that one glass of wine would result in her and Dan getting fluthered and starting an all-out rendition of ‘The Green Fields of France!’ What was Jarlath’s problem, she wondered, taking a large gulp from her own glass and praying that the wine would help settle her unease.

Mrs Hunt said little throughout dinner. Nicola complimented her on her genuinely delicious cooking, but when Dan’s mother declined to comment other than with a quick nod, she gave up. What was the point? Nicola knew enough about human nature to know that it was hopeless ingratiating herself to the woman in the hope that she would soften her attitude. For reasons unknown, she was plainly determined not to like Nicola.

Jarlath’s curiosity more than made up for his wife’s reticence, however. He was full of questions and wanted to know everything about her – where she worked, she lived, her family, her ambitions – everything. He was so businesslike about it that Nicola was expecting him to come out with the ‘where do you see yourself in five years time?’ question.

“Leisure management? What does that involve – organising golf-trips, or something?” He laughed as he said this but to Nicola, there was no mistaking the scorn behind it.

“Not exactly,” she said with a tight smile. “Leisure management involves the day-to-day running of a leisure centre – swimming-pool, gym, fitness programmes, spa, aerobics, that type of thing.”

“Oh? And how did an intelligent-looking girl like yourself get into something like
that
?” The way he said it, it was as though Nicola was down in Benburb Street every night touting for business.

“I studied for three years in college to get into something like that,” she answered, wishing that she could tell him where to go. This felt like some kind of test. The way Dan went on about them, you’d swear that his parents were contenders for a remake of the Waltons. But his mother had been rude from the very beginning, and now his father was being downright condescending.

After dinner, when the plates had been cleared, the foursome went into the Hunts’ spacious and comfortable lounge. Nicola tried to relax and assumed a casual posture on the comfy leather suite.

“How are plans for the practice going, Dan?” his father asked.

“Very well, actually.” Dan’s eyes lit up. “We’re drawing up the final draft of the partnership agreement at the moment, and hopefully we’ll secure the lease on the office by the end of the month.”

Jarlath nodded. “Let me have a look at the agreement before signature, will you?”

“Dad, I’ve worked with John O’Leary for years, I know what I’m doing.” Dan sounded annoyed.

“No matter. With any legal document you should always have a professional look it over.”

“You hardly think I’d get into this without at least consulting a solicitor, Dad. I’m not totally stupid.”

Nicola listened to the exchange with interest. Jarlath was speaking to his son as though he was an immature sixteen-year-old.

“Nevertheless …” Jarlath insisted.

Dan gave up. “OK, I’ll fax you a copy of it when it’s finished.”

The two men chatted some more about the practice, leaving Nicola and Mrs Hunt sitting in uncomfortable silence together on the couch. Eventually Mrs Hunt brought herself to say something.

“So, Nicola, you’re from Dublin?” she asked as though she was trying to coax a spider out of the bath by talking to it.

Nicola nodded. “Through and through. I was born in the Coombe and raised not far from it – Crumlin, to be precise.”

“Oh – the inner city, then?” Her patronizing tone was unmistakable.

“Well, not exactly, but close enough.” Nicola was half tempted to tell Mrs Hunt that she had been raised in a block of drug-dealing flats, rather than a perfectly respectable corporation three-bedroom semi. And so what if she had been? How she had been raised had a lot to do with the person Nicola was now and, if anything, it had ensured she was more than able for the likes of these two snobs. How had the Hunts raised someone as mild-mannered and down-to-earth as Dan?

“Yes. I live on the Southside now, but ideally I’d love to move back. Impossible though,” she shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately property prices there have gone through the roof.”

“In Dublin certainly, but hardly in the
inner city
?” That expression again, Nicola thought. She might as well have been talking about downtown Kabul.

“Absolutely. It’s
the
place to live at the moment. Rather like Manhattan, I suppose – you know – the closer you are to everything the more expensive the property prices? Anyway my parents are still there, lucky things – sitting on a goldmine they are, but of course they wouldn’t sell up for anything.”

She wasn’t about to add that the Peters were still trying to pay off their corporation mortgage but Mrs Hunt’s look of bewilderment was worth the fib.

“I see,” Annabel poured herself a glass of mineral water and didn’t ask any more questions. Nicola was relieved when finally Dan looked at this watch and suggested they head back to Dublin.

“I think they were crazy about you – what do you think?” he asked happily as they drove towards town.

Nicola looked at him. “Um, I’m not really sure about that.”

“Oh, come on. My dad was drooling over you!”

“Do you think so?” Nicola thought that she might have misread the signals.

“Definitely. And Mum …” his face clouded a little, “Mum can be a bit shy sometimes.”

Shy?

“I guessed that,” she said diplomatically. She suspected the Hunts detested her, but if Dan thought they got on OK, then that was the main thing. “Although I’m sure that once your mother gets to know me better,” she added, knowing it was probably wishful thinking, “we’ll all get on absolutely fine.”

T
he next time
she and the Hunts met, it was to announce the engagement. It wasn’t long after he and John had officially opened O’Leary Hunt Chartered Accountants and Dan had invited them for dinner at the apartment he was renting temporarily in Bray.

“
Married
?” Mrs Hunt pealed. “What do you mean married? You’ve only been going out a wet week.”

Nicola remembered her heart dropping like a stone at the time.

“Dan,” Jarlath began nervously, “surely you should wait a little longer before you start making decisions like this, at least until the business is up and running.”

“What are you talking about, Dad? The business has got nothing to do with this. I’ve asked Nicola to be my wife, and she’s accepted. We want to get married as soon as we can.”

“But what’s the rush?” his mother cried, giving Nicola a look of such blatant disdain that she recoiled. “Oh, you’ve gone and got yourself into trouble, haven’t you?”

That was enough for Nicola. She kept her voice even, but her tone was pure ice.

“Mrs Hunt, with all due respect, this isn’t the Dark Ages. I suspect that ‘getting into trouble’ refers to the possibility that I would deliberately set out to get pregnant in order to trap your son. Please give Dan and me
some
credit. We’re hardly a pair of immature teenagers.” She could tell that her calm and eloquent speech had completely disconcerted Mrs Hunt, who stood there with pursed lips as Nicola continued. “We’re in love, and we want to get married. What could possibly be wrong with that?”

“Well, it’s all a little bit convenient, isn’t it?” she spat. “A few months ago we didn’t know you from Adam, and then no sooner than Dan sets up on his own, than you’re crawling all over him.”

“Mum!” Dan was aghast.

“Mrs Hunt, if you’re implying that I am some kind of money-grabber, can I remind you again that we’re living in the new millennium, and that very few women these days are in need of a man to support them.”
Except yourself
, she wanted to add.

“Rubbish. The likes of you will always be looking for a man to support them. You think you’ve really landed on your feet, don’t you? Well, we know all about you and your corporation upbringing.”

“What?” Nicola didn’t think she had heard right. She knew that Dan’s parents were snobs but surely … at that moment she had been too gobsmacked to come up with anything in reply, but Dan had no such problems.

“Get out, both of you,” he shouted at them. “How dare you! How dare you speak to my fiancée like that? I’ve met her family and their pet
cat
has more integrity in his right paw than either of you two put together – now
get out.
”

“Dan, you could be making a big mistake here,” Nicola heard Jarlath say as they were unceremoniously escorted to the hallway. “We know what we’re talking about and that girl is all wrong for you.”

“Dad, you haven’t a goddamn clue.”

“Well it’s easy to see where you picked up language like that,” Annabel said nastily, before Dan closed the door in her face.

He looked shocked when he came back into the room. “Oh I’m so sorry, Nicola. I don’t know what to say. Mum has always been a little stuck up but, you’d think Dad would have a little more cop-on.”

“It’s OK Dan,” Nicola said quietly.

“It’s not bloody OK. What I said about your family there was true. Your parents are both terrific people, which is more than I can say for mine.”

“Dan, stop,” Nicola had never seen him so upset. “Look, I don’t mind. It’s just the way they are.” She was upset too, but she didn’t want to risk an all-out war with the Hunts. She loved Dan too much.

“Well,
I
mind! I’m so embarrassed, Nicola. I don’t know what to say.”

Nicola smiled, put her arms around her fiancé and told him to forget it – they shouldn’t let it cloud their happiness. Still, she knew then that any notions she might have had of easing her way into the Hunts’ affections had that day gone completely by the wayside.

The Peters family’s response to the news of their engagement however, had almost made up for the Hunts’ unpleasant reaction. Tears of happiness and copious amounts of sparkling wine flowed for hours in Crumlin that night.

“Oh my!” her mother whooped for joy when Nicola displayed her stunning solitaire. “My baby is getting married!” With that, she had hugged Dan so hard that he laboured for breath. “Welcome to the family, love,” she said, struggling to speak through happy tears.

Nicola grinned as her father shook Dan’s hand and clapped him on the back. “Congratulations, lad.”

“Well, when’s the big day and oh! When do we get to the meet the in-laws?” her mother said excitedly. “Oh, I’ve
always
wanted to say that!”

Nicola tensed. How could she tell her wonderful trusting mother that the in-laws were ignorant snobs who had already formed a derisory opinion about her?

“Well, I’m sure we’ll all meet up before the wedding.” Dan interjected quickly, seeing Nicola’s torn expression. “Mum and Dad don’t get down to Dublin very often, what with Dad being so busy.”

Later that evening, when she and Dan returned to her apartment, Nicola confessed her worries about the two sets of parents meeting at the wedding.

“With all due respect, I’m not really concerned about your parents. They’ve made their feelings about me more than clear, but I don’t want them upsetting my mother. She’s doesn’t deserve that.”

Dan nodded. “I’ve thought about that myself. Nicola, you don’t know how sorry I am about all of this. I cringe when I think about the things they said to you.”

“I can handle myself, I’m just not so sure about Mam. You know what she’s like, Dan – she’d be all over your mother, hoping to get friendly with her. I know that it would break her heart if your mother snubbed her, not to mention that it would break mine too.”

“I know that, love. I want our wedding day to be the happiest day of our lives, and believe me, I’m not about to let my parents ruin it by causing aggro.”

“So what can we do? It’s not as though we can keep them apart on the day.”

“I think there’s only one way out of it, then,” Dan said seriously, but there was a twinkle in his eye.

“What?”

“Well, you said yourself that you weren’t into the big white wedding thing, and all the hullabaloo surrounding it . . .”

Nicola smiled. Those were her words exactly. “So?”

“So why not just go away and get married, then – in the Caribbean, or Las Vegas, or something like that.”

“Are you serious?” Nicola grinned, realising that he had come up with a perfect solution. If they went away somewhere and got married by themselves, then both sets of parents could be kept apart, and there would be little or nothing to organise.

“And maybe Jamie and Helen, and Laura and Neil might be tempted to come with us,” said Dan.

She was sure the gang would jump at the chance. Jamie and Helen took foreign holidays on a regular basis, and although Laura and Neil Connolly hadn’t been together all that long, Nicola was sure they would be thrilled to travel over for her wedding.

Maybe her mother might be a little taken aback, and disappointed that there would be no Big Day, but Carmel had raised her children to be completely independent, and Nicola knew that her mother would support her in whatever she wanted to do.

She laughed as Dan engulfed her in a huge hug, and swept her off the ground.

“That’s settled then,” Dan said, and Nicola laughed as he whooped for joy. “Vegas, here we come.”