Cross the Line

Part Eight

Naomi was nervous as the cab pulled up at the airport. But there outside the departure hall was Conor looking devastating in dark jeans and a pale grey thin knitted jumper, his leather jacket dumped on the bag at his feet, he was nervously looking at his watch when she jumped out of the car in front of him.

“Did you think I wasn’t coming?” She asked with a grin.

The relief on his face spoke volumes, “I did begin to wonder to what lengths I could realistically expect you to go to just to help me out!”

She looked at him for a few seconds before heading into the airport, throwing the comment, “I couldn’t stay home with all these new.....clothes to wear!” flirtatiously over her shoulder.

He laughed out loud before following her into the terminal, the spring of anticipation added to his step.

The flight was quick, just over an hour, and he’d hired a sleek sports car to drive for the weekend. It was a battle to fit suit bags and boxes into the tiny boot, but they managed it, just. Lowering herself into the deep passenger seat, she smiled at him, “I’ve not been to Ireland before, so I expect a running commentary, all the way!”

He was at home on the roads of Ireland, and as the urban city gave way to country scenery, he visibly relaxed, but as requested he pointed out villages, sights and any important things as they zoomed along.

“Am I here as your girlfriend? Or just a business associate?” She finally plucked up the courage to ask. She’d wondered all week what role she had in this, was she here to fill the place of a lover, or just as a smokescreen, a deterrent for any amorous or expectant women by being on his arm for the event.

“More girlfriend than colleague if that’s ok?” he sighed, “and that I’m afraid does mean we’re sharing a room. I couldn’t get two rooms as the place is full, but also it’s more realistic. Michael called last night warning me that the Leary’s were coming. Honestly they give the Bennett’s from Pride and Prejudice a run for their money. Five girls, all with their sights on me...and Seamus and maybe even Liam!”

She nodded, “so I’m heading into the baptism of fire on the arms of the most eligible man in Ireland!”

He turned to her briefly, “I’m not trying to sound boastful over this, it’s just I’m a financially independent male, from a respected Catholic family. My status is what’s desired.”

“You’re hardly Quasimodo, there are worse available men out there than you, I’m sure.”

Laughing he raised an eyebrow, “A compliment? Thank you! I think!! But seriously, there is something that you don’t know, that may come up in conversation; I don’t want you to be wrong footed.”

She looked up at him, and he slowed to the side of the road, “you know I was married, well we split three years ago...there may be some members of her family there, Orla’s that is, I’m not sure. That might be...awkward. It was made quite obvious last time I was home that people seem to think three years is long enough to get over my grief and start looking for love!” he sounded so sceptical that it sent a shiver down her spine.

“And are you?” it was such a weighted question and she dreaded the answer.

“Not with anyone that’s selected for me!” It was as neutral as she could hope for, thought she denied to herself that she personally cared what he wanted.

She laughed trying to lighten the mood, “I thought arranged marriages only happened in other cultures!”

He spun the car back out into traffic, “tell me about it!”