Sometimes Moments (Sometimes Moments, #1)(6)
Jay was just like Peyton and Graham. He had stayed behind because his family owned the local pub. But, unlike them, Jay liked what he did. Ever since he had graduated from high school two years ahead of Peyton, he had strived to fulfil his role as pub owner.
Putting the glass down, Peyton returned to the Reynolds’ wedding list. When one had money, one lavished. And bride-to-be Marissa Reynolds had money—her parents’ money, to be exact.
“Ugh, she really chose our town to be the place for her wedding?” Jay asked with much disgust. He sat back in his chair and reached for his beer, almost drinking the entire glass in one pull.
Peyton’s eyebrows furrowed, and she tapped her finger on the table. “Don’t like Marissa?”
Jay’s lips parted and his brows met, bewildered by her question. “You do?”
“I’ve never met her or her fiancé. Aunt Brenda took the booking a few months ago while I was studying for exams. Should I be worried? Is she a bridezilla?”
She didn’t need an uncooperative bride. Peyton knew the importance of the day, but from past experience, the most challenging brides were the ones where money had absolutely no limits.
“She wanted to tear down my pub because it wasn’t an ideal backdrop for her wedding pictures. I bloody love the woman! What’s she got you doing? Putting fancy Japanese fish in the lake?” Jay set his now empty glass on the table and folded his arms over his chest.
“Just the guest list is substantial. I don’t think that I have the staff to cater for so many people. It’s meant to be a private wedding, but she’s got half of the Collingwood football team coming.” Peyton sighed and returned the papers back in the folder and then her folder in her bag.
“Be careful of them, Peyton. I see you near any of them footy boys and I won’t make any promises of not breaking their legs.”
Jay’s tense body had Peyton rolling her eyes.
“Don’t go all protective over me, Jay,” she said as she got out of her chair and picked up her bag. Her break from the hotel was already long stretched. She needed to return.
She looked down and met Jay’s concerned face.
He stared at her for a moment before he closed his eyes and sighed. “Someone has to be, Peyton.”
Before she was able to ask him what he meant, Peyton felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. When she pulled it out, she saw a new text message.
Marissa Reynolds: Peyton, since you are now dealing with the wedding and my fiancé doesn’t think your hotel is suitable, I will be sending him down tomorrow to have a look over it.
Peyton glared at the message and let her shoulders sag. “Bridezilla’s fiancé is coming tomorrow. I better get back and make sure the hotel’s of ‘suitable’ manner for their wedding. I’ll see you, Jay.”
Marissa Reynolds: Expect my fiancé at around one.
Peyton placed her phone back on the desk and her chin in the palm of her hand. The hotel was quiet—too quiet for her liking. She wished her aunt hadn’t sent all the staff on holidays; it would have been nice to spend her days with someone to talk to. A day alone in the hotel and she realised that there wasn’t anything physical or structural that she wanted to change about The Spencer-Dayle. Last night, she’d decided that it was the services the hotel provided that she could make her own. She just needed to figure out what those services could be.
Picking up the Reynolds’ file, Peyton read over the wedding plan for the fourth time today. She’d spent last night analysing it. Making sure that she made notes on potential issues the fiancé would have, and highlighting any problems she had so they could discuss them together. This wedding would provide enough income to last through the year without any other booking. It was the big one.
The sound of the bell rang, alerted Peyton to someone’s presence in the hotel. She looked over at the gold clock to see that it had only just ticked 12:21 p.m. She heard footsteps and then it went quiet for a moment before she heard a muffled voice. Upon getting up from the worn, leather desk chair, Peyton walked towards her office door and adjusted her high-waist skirt. With a deep breath, she palmed the handle and opened the door.
Peyton stepped out of her office and closed the door behind her. “I’m sorry, but The Spencer-Dayle is closed due to owner chan—”
She stopped when she looked over at the person standing by the front desk. She felt all breath leave her and her mouth fell open. Her eyes were wide in surprise as she took him in. He stood there with a careful smile on his face and his hands in his dress pants pockets.
“Hello, Peyton,” he said.
Blinking didn’t take away the image of him standing before her. Not possible. He couldn’t.
She stayed quiet as his posture tensed. He used to be so carefree. But now, he was dressed up like he was about to seal a merger with a careful, practised smile on his face. No sincerity to it, there for the sake of it. Glances were exchanged, but Peyton refused to speak, purely due to the fact that words were failing her.
His eyes ran down her body before he looked away and took in the hotel. It was different from how he would have remembered it. Just before her parents’ deaths, they had renovated The Spencer-Dayle, adding the old with the new, balancing it out until it was perfect. Little things had stayed, but most things had changed. Peyton followed his line of gaze until it stopped at a photo of the lake. A photo he had taken. For a moment, she watched a regretful smile develop until he shook his head and looked back at her. His smile faded just as quickly as she had blinked.