Page 100 of On The Rocks

Iris patted my hand. “You get in the warmth. And make sure you enjoy your party tomorrow.”

I gave them both a quick hug goodbye and picked my way along the icy sidewalk toward the salon, pulling the lapels of my coat together to ward off the cold air.

Everybody in this town was so nice and friendly—well, mostly everybody. Girls like Saskia weren’t so great but if she was about to move up to Coal Creek, at least I wouldn’t have to see her sour face anymore. Still, I wasn’t lying when I told Callum I felt a little bad for her. Losing Callum O’Shea would be a blow for any woman, and Saskia was obviously no exception.

My husband was a catch.

A small thrill ran through me at that word,husband. Accepting Callum’s proposal was turning out to be the bestdecision I ever made, even after we had such a rocky start. That was when Abe’s words flashed through my mind.

‘Often, when people are forced together, the resentment alone could pile enough pressure for everything to implode.’

The thrill in my belly turned to acid.

What did he mean by that? Nobody forced me to marry Callum. It wasn’t my idea, but I’d readily agreed to it.

It occurred to me that I never asked my husband what he’d told his friends about our marriage and how we got together. In our circles, it was common for people to meet through their parents or even be introduced by family in the hope they’d hit it off.

Patrick’s line of work especially lent itself to arranged marriages, if only to secure alliances and build connections. Patrick’s wedding to Orla was arranged, the same as Shannon’s and Erin’s would be. Mine wasn’t really any different. It started as a convenience for both of us. Callum needed a wife to keep Maureen off his back, and I needed to get out of New York. However, nobody forced it onto us.

Still, I couldn’t get rid of the heavy feeling settling in the pit of my belly.

Something wasn’t adding up.

I’d gotten to know Maureen and was sure she’d love her boys whether they had wives or not, so I couldn’t help wondering if there was more to Callum’s explanation. Was Abe aware of something I wasn’t? Or was my marriage just the subject of the town gossips who’d put two and two together and eventually came up with five?

Something kept nagging at me. Abe’s words just didn’t ring true. They didn’t match reality as I knew it. What did he mean by ‘forced’?

How weird.

My belly pitched, but I knew I’d have to put the feelings of uneasiness to one side. We had a big day tomorrow, and I’d be too busy to get caught up in solving this particular mystery, but mark my words, solve it I would, and soon.

They didn’t call me the queen of research for nothing; plus, shit seemed to have a habit of hitting the fan when it came to my marriage and my (sometimes) eejit husband.

“You okay,” Tristan asked as I approached the salon.

“Fine,” I said decisively. “Just rushed off my feet. It’ll be nice to have a glass of wine, squeal over my dress, and just chill for a while.”

Tristan ushered me inside the salon. “He’s beside himself,” Layla called over. “The dress envy is real.”

“Really?” I breathed, walking over and greeting her with a hug.

Cara looked up from her place on a chair by reception, where she lounged back, reading a magazine. “It’s gorgeous.”

“I’m so excited,” Tristan declared, holding his hands together. “Maeve, it’s perfect. You’ll look like a princess. Take a seat, and we’ll do a color match against your hair.”

Shrugging off my coat, I hung it up and took a seat at Tristan’s usual chair, nervously biting my lip. “Hope it doesn’t clash. My shade of ginger can be weird; people think green suits me, and it does, but only certain ones. Some look awful.”

“Trust me,” Tristan breathed, going to reception and leaning over the counter to pull out a large white box. “You’ll lookincredible. Uncle Trissy’s gonna wave his magic wand and turn you into a Cinderella going to the opening night ball, though at least with me, you won’t have a midnight curfew.” He went to a big chair, rested the box on it, and opened the top, pulling out a swathe of the most beautiful pale sage-green material.

My hands flew to my mouth. “Oh my God.”

Cara looked on approvingly. “Told ya.”

“It really is pretty, Maeve,” Layla assured me.

Tristan almost skipped toward me, placing the material under my chin and gently removing my glasses.

My complexion glowed, and my hair seemed to take on an almost burnt copper hue. My skin came to life. Even my cheeks and lips seemed a shade pinker than usual. But it was my eyes that really shocked me. The mix of cool blue and green in my irises gleamed from my face.

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