Page 142 of Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye

They crossed the ditch circling the ancient stones and joined the main pathway leading to the small parking lot. The fading purple heather growing wild around the ancient site waved goodbye as the wind sighed through the bowing grass.

Leia’s eyes swept the horizon, taking in the Loch of Stenness on one side of the stones and the Loch of Harray on the other. “It’s so beautiful here.” She gasped, her gaze locked on the breathtaking sunset, its warm oranges and dusty blues descending in the distance behind the hills on the island of Hoy.

“If we’re lucky, we might see the northern lights after dinner,” said Tarquin. “Orcadians call them the Merry Dancers.”

“Love it.” And him. I already feel lucky. Everything that’s happened here has made me love him even more. Butterflies flittered in her stomach. Why wait? She glanced up at him, his hair playfully tossed by the wind. “So, at risk of sounding premature, I don’t want to go home.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, Orkney has a way of casting its spell.”

“No offence to Orkney, but that’s not what I mean.” She stopped on the path and pulled him close, their warm breaths mingling. “I want to stay in London…permanently. I mean, I want to be with you.”

Tarquin’s mouth gaped, his eyes blinking in disbelief. “Oh. My. God! Leia, I’d love nothing more! But what about Fashion Week and your pop-up shop in Brooklyn?”

“I’ll fly back for both. The pop-up runs for all of April, so maybe you could join me for a bit? Help me pack up my apartment?”

“I’m so there! But are you sure? You know I want us to be together, but I’d never pressure you to up sticks and move. You did enough of that for Tyler.”

“I know, but you’re not him. Tarquin, you are the kindest, most supportive man I’ve ever known.” She pulled him closer. “I love London. Saz is there, and Frill-Seekers is getting lots of good PR. I know you mentioned before we could have a long-distance relationship, but I just don’t think I can cope with that again. Ty and I were apart so much.”

“No, I totally get it.” Tarquin’s brow furrowed. “But is it even possible? How would you be able to emigrate and work?”

“I can get a UK Ancestry visa. If you’re Canadian and have a grandparent who was born in the UK, you can apply that way.”

“Moving, though—it’s huge. I’d hate for you to have regrets.”

“Like I did in New York?” Leia gazed into his eyes. “I let you go twice before, Tarquin. I won’t let that happen again.”

He broke out into a smile. “Blimey! I’m speechless…for once!”

This will probably fix that. “So, can I move in with you?”

“Of course! I was going to ask but—oh, Leia! London is going to be smashing! We can re-decorate the flat, change up the furniture. Hey, we can turn one of the bedrooms into a Frill-Seekers workroom with dress forms and sewing machines. I’ll do anything for you, Leia. Just name it.”

She chuckled warmly. “Tarquin, I’m not making over your flat! All I want is you—and maybe a date to Simon and Freddie’s wedding next month.”

“What the lady wants, the lady gets.” He pulled her in for a sweet kiss.

Thirty-Two

TARQUIN

London, Saturday, December 21, 2019

Strings of fairy lights and silver garlands twinkled like glittery smiles across the large windows of Alex and Mark’s plush London Fields apartment, mirroring the joyous grins of Simon and Freddie’s wedding guests. The black-and-white-themed celebration was deep in champagne-soaked speeches, the first by a bubbly Alex (Simon’s best woman) and the second by Freddie’s best man, Mark. Overcome with emotion, the Irish actor ran a hand through his dark hair and playfully cursed under his breath before flashing a teary, eye-crinkling grin at the newlyweds. “Yeah, you got me, Freds.”

Digging into the front pocket of his tuxedo’s trousers, Mark whipped out a folded fifty-pound note, and Freddie jubilantly snapped the wager from his best friend’s fingers. Laughter burst from all corners of the room while a few guests whisked away happy tears, including Leia.

Tarquin set down his boulevardier and leaned in close, plucking a neatly ironed handkerchief from inside his tux jacket. “You okay, love?” he whispered over their half-eaten apple pie butter tarts, the dessert a nod to Simon’s Canadian heritage.

“I am. Thanks.” Leia accepted his offer. “I always cry at weddings.” She laughed faintly and carefully dabbed her eyes with his white cotton square.

Does tonight bring back memories of her own? Tarquin gazed at his girlfriend in her floor-length bias-cut white dress and softly rubbed her back, hoping his loving caress might soothe any bittersweet déjà vu. She gave him a reassuring grin and he reluctantly looked away, surveying their table of eight. Sarah and Jordan, Harry and Lucy, Spencer, and Alex’s larger-than-life grandmother Joan (who walked Freddie down the aisle) sat captivated by Mark’s heartfelt tribute.

“So, please join me”—Mark raised a huge grin and his glass of champagne—“in a toast to this beautiful couple.”

Tarquin, Leia, and all the guests held their flutes aloft in a fizzy celebration of love and hope.

Mark licked his lips and lifted his glass a touch higher. “To Freddie and Simon!”