Right Number, Wrong Girl

On the other hand, him respecting my wishes just endeared him to me a little bit.

Endearing was not anything I needed Hugo Devon to be.

I got into my car and backed up, pulling away from Cavendish House. I’d largely made it out unscathed, but that didn’t mean that wouldn’t change at some point over the next several days as the party got closer.

This really had been left to the last minute, and I didn’t know how successful it would be even if I were Camilla.

I really wanted to make this a success—for Camilla, for me, for Evelyn, too. Especially Evelyn. I knew she didn’t want a fuss made and was completely against it, but I wanted her to enjoy herself if she could regardless of if she wanted it or not.

It was no easy task.

Harder now I’d crossed the line with Hugo.

I pulled up outside the cottage and went inside. At least it was quiet here. Only the sounds of the countryside permeated the walls of the old cottage, and I was slowly becoming used to it. The sheep and cows in the surrounding fields were already nothing more than a low hum in the background, almost like white noise, and the birds were quickly drowned out by things like the shower or the kettle or the TV.

I took myself to the bathroom and spent the next fifteen minutes in the shower feeling sorry for myself. I needed to buck my ideas up and pull myself together if I was going to make a success of this, and I was sorry that I needed help.

I didn’t want help.

I was feeling more and more out of my depth as this thing went on.

Oh, yeah.

Pulling myself together was going well.

Not.

After showering, I changed into the only pair of jogging bottoms I had with me—that might have been clean, I wasn’t even sure anymore—and headed into the kitchen for some food. Naturally, I chose the healthiest option of a giant bag of crisps that supposedly had multiple servings.

What a joke.

That was one serving.

We all knew it.

I set the party things out on the dining table and looked at it all.

Where to start?

A knock at the door interrupted my train of thought. All right, it hadn’t left the station yet, but whatever.

“Who is it?” I shouted, moving hesitantly towards it.

If it was Hugo, I was going to lock the damn thing.

“Henry.”

Oh.

He was fine.

“It’s open,” I called out.

He cracked the door open. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

He closed it behind him and walked over to me. “Are you all right? Grandma said Mum was pretty hard on you and I wanted to check in.”