Shannon let out a heavy breath, a weight lift off her chest. This was it. Everything was falling into place. Niall would get help and leave her alone. And now she was more than just a stable hand. She had a voice…a position of power.
“I don’t know what to say, Harry.” She palmed her heart. “Other than thank you.”
“Oh, I know how much this means to you. It’s written all over your face. You deserve it, Shannon. I know you’ll handle it, no problem. We’ll celebrate today and start the day after tomorrow.”
After a while, the limo rolled to a stop and the driver, dressed in a black suit, opened the door with a respectful nod.
Shannon knocked back her champagne before stepping out onto the tarmac, her dress catching the winter sunlight.
The air was fresh and invigorating, sweeping over Shannon and filling her with a sense of freedom.
The heavy clouds had stayed far to the north, allowing the sun to shine over the surrounding grass. Raindrops from a recent rain shower glistened, adding an almost magical quality to the day as they strolled arm in arm toward the VIP entrance of the marquee.
Inside, the top-level terrace radiated opulence. The staff prepared a three-course luncheon, complete with fine wines, and set elegant tables using linen napkins and delicate pink flowers.
Soft, flowing fabric draped across the ceiling, contrasting with the sharp lines of the white rectangular couches.
They strategically positioned the space close to the parade ring and just a stone’s throw from the track, giving an unobstructed view of the action.
At the bar, Mitchell stood with a pint of Guinness in hand and his arm draped around the waist of a pretty brunette, soaking in the privilege.
“Harry! You made it!” Mitchell called out with a smirk, giving them a nod. “Fuck, Shannon, is that you? Jesus, you look stunning.”
Heat spread from her neck to her face.
“Drinks are on me today. Order whatever you like. I’ll catch up with you later.” He gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek before his gaze shifted away.
“I’ll grab you a glass of champagne,” Harry said, nudging her elbow.
The kiss had stirred something deep inside her. Areminder of what she had with Jamie, and what she still dreamed about.
It wasn’t just the kisses she missed, though. It was the texts, the late-night calls, the smile on Jamie’s face that lit her up inside, every time.
A tall flute of pink champagne interrupted her thoughts. “Here you go, Shan.”
The champagne was light and crisp, tasting like raspberries, and it cooled her throat as she took a sip. Today was a better day, and she was determined to enjoy it.
A sip turned into two, and soon she’d finished the whole glass.
“I needed that.” She grinned and set her glass on a passing waiter’s tray, signalling for another.
Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s scruffy jaw. “Thanks for the dress.”
His eyes softened, a mix of emotions flashing across his face. He reached out, giving her elbow a gentle squeeze as the waiter offered her another drink.
“Anytime,” he said, watching her guzzle her drink. “The horses are racing today, Shannon.”
Harry chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink. “Not us.”
“I plan to pick all the winners myself from the parade ring.” She smiled, the alcohol buzzing in her veins. “I’ll hit the toilets first.”
“I’ll get us a jug of water,” Harry said.
The excitement of Harry’s news, and the buzz of the event, had her spirits soaring. For the first time in too long, she felt alive, her body humming withenergy.
She passed by the accessible toilet on her way to the washrooms, finding a long line of well-dressed women. Rather than force her way through the waiting crowd, she leant against the wall, hoping to avoid a conversation.
The champagne had a strange, light-headed effect on her. She took a deep breath, letting it settle in her chest, her pulse picking up with each exhale.
