Cross the Line
Part Six

Chapter 6

Conor stuck to soft drinks, not sure he could face alcohol ever again. Naomi laughed at his pained expression. “So I presume it was a good weekend?”

He nodded, “I’m too old to be this hectic though! It’s ok for my brothers. Michael is only twenty-five, and Liam nineteen. They live in a village in rural Ireland, then all of sudden are dropped with no consequences in the middle of London...a City that never sleeps. They were like things gone mad. Whereas I was a bit of a killjoy I’m afraid. Or rather a very very old man!”

                “You’re hardly ancient!” she chuckled.

                “I’m thirty four, and felt fifty four this weekend! Especially at some of the clubs I was dragged to. I suppose it’s because being the oldest you get used to being the sensible one, I did all this ten years ago, I’m too old now. I like my comforts, and would rather a meal with good company than a night of drinking and clubs!” He sat back in his chair and smiled at her, “but then I appreciate quality not quantity, which puts me in the minority these days!”

She smiled knowingly, “You’re definitely not alone, and that’s not necessarily an age thing. Give me good company and a nice environment and I’m happy, I hate noisy places where you can’t hear yourself think let alone anyone else speak.” she ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass distractedly as she spoke.

He was amazed that she felt the same way, and nodded enthusiastically as he added, “I know exactly what you mean, though I have been peer pressured into a few nightclubs over the years!”

They ate quietly enjoying the perfectly cooked seafood and steak. All the while Conor told her all about his family, other than Michael and Liam, there were his two sisters Máire and Sinéad, three and five years younger than him respectively, both of whom were married and had provided his mother with seven grandchildren between them. The other sibling was Seamus, his twenty two year old brother who was currently studying at Princeton College in the USA. The real success of the family he’d suggested in a proud manner. He couldn’t make the stag night, but was flying home for the wedding, and Conor was looking forward to seeing him, he’d been away in Thailand when Seamus had last made it back. Naomi loved the way his face lit up when he talked about his brother, and she could tell he missed his siblings.

The conversation turned to work, and they discussed various cases and it flattered Naomi that he genuinely wanted her advice with some tasks and problems. So she gave her opinion as well as the knowledge of those cases up to date. She also answered all his questions about the quirky Gloria. Who was an enigma in her own right!

As they demolished their main course he still admitted her was not the wiser when it came to her. After they had declined desert he turned to her, his face pale, his anxiety palpable. Suddenly Naomi was nervous.

                “It’s my brother’s wedding in two weeks. I’ve no one to take at the moment. I was wondering if you’d come with me?” He saw her jaw drop, her mouth open to protest and he raised a hand. “Before you bite my head off and tell me how much you hate me, or the five million reasons why you couldn’t dream of it, let me just say, without sounding too bigheaded, I’m seen as a bit of a catch at home, I’m apparently the ideal man for a good Irish girl. I don’t need that sort of hassle. My cousin got married last year and it was horrendous. Every eligible girl in the county was paraded in front of me almost ceremoniously.”

As she started to laugh, he groaned, “I know, it sounds ridiculous, and probably really conceited, but I’m from a good family, financially solvent and I have my own hair and teeth.” He leaned close to whisper, “that’s not a guarantee in some parts of the county. So all the good catholic mothers, ignoring the fact I’m divorced, set out shop the minute I arrive home. I just want to go, enjoy seeing my family, and then come away. You know?”

Taking a drink of his orange juice, he looked at her amused face, “look if you come with me it would be perfect.  I like your company, you’re a very beautiful woman,” noting her self-conscious giggle he added, “you are perfect to accompany me. I’ll buy you clothes, pay for your transport......” He sighed, “I really am desperate!”

She laughed out loud, “so I’m your last chance, and you want to buy me?” She knew that even a couple of weeks ago she’d not have even entertained the thought, but today, she was feeling generous, and he did look desperate, but she wasn’t going to make it easy!

Conor shook his head defiantly, “that’s not what I meant! I had no one I felt I could ask last year, but I think we get on don’t we? Well these days anyway. It wouldn’t be the most torturous weekend would it? The weddings do tend to be fun.”

She shook her head, “It wouldn’t be torture...”

Ignoring the fact that she was showing signs of agreeing, he carried on defensively, “I don’t expect you to make a decision today. I just need to know let them know for numbers in the next few days. Don’t think I’m going to be annoyed if you say no. It’s your choice...but if you come, I’ll owe you BIG style!”

She nodded sipping her coffee contemplating what saying yes could mean.

Over the next few days she battled internally with what to do. Her mind said no, no way, but the rest of her thought she did deserve to be treated well for a weekend. In all her years she’d never had a boyfriend who was in the same league as Conor, as confident, worldly or sophisticated, she knew if she posed as his girlfriend he would lavish both time and money on her, it was such an attractive thought, and the affection, the romance and love, she could live without. Gloria however seemed to have picked up on the tension between them immediately.

                “I don’t remember Simon ever taking you out for a ‘business lunch’, that’s all I’m saying!” She’d announced coyly when Naomi asked her for some paper clips two days later.

                “Gloria!” she exclaimed in a hoarse whisper, not wanting to alert Conor to this conversation. “He likes to do things differently, that’s all!”

Gloria nodded knowingly, “that’s what Clive said!”

She paused in her return to her desk, and turned back to the older woman, “Clive?”

Gloria giggled, “My second husband...I called it perverted initially, but he said ‘different’, he was right, it’s surprising how broad your horizons can become!”

Gasping in shock, Naomi headed back to her desk shaking her head, unable and unwilling to fathom that comment. When she glanced up to Conor’s office at the back of the building, she met his eyes head on, he was sat behind his desk stifling a laugh, and she knew he’d heard every word.  Shaking her head in an exaggerated manner, she’d turned to concentrate on her work.

Her friend was equally outspoken on the matter, Emma, who met her one evening at the local pub laughed at her indecision.

                “The man is fit, good looking and loaded. He wants to kit you out for a full on Irish wedding. Why are you even thinking of saying no? And anyway, you’ve not had a sniff of a man since we went speed dating, and that was almost a year ago!”

Naomi dissolved into laughter at the memory of the disastrous night when they’d gone to a nearby hotel, none of the twenty men there appeared to have a personality between them, and Emma had been convinced that Internet dating was the next plan, she was like Which? magazine in the way she reviewed all the different dating sites, and she’d narrowed it down to three. As they discussed their profiles and who/what they were looking for in the bar that evening, the barman had come right over and asked her out. Emma had been stunned, and their Powwow was immediately over. Bar work was Tom’s part time job as he finished his last year of Med school. They’d been inseparable since, and he was now a junior doctor in the local hospital, and she’d never known Emma happier. Naomi hadn’t been as lucky.

                “You know you got the monopoly on the good looking men Ems, I’m on the shelf I’m afraid. You stuck gold, I fell asleep, that’s the way it goes. And in case you forgot, this is purely a platonic event. I go and fend off the desperado Irish beauties. No more. This is not a fantasy moment where I wake up an Irish Princess with a beautiful devoted man!”

                “Still sounds like the plot to a Hugh Grant film to me! But we’ll see!”

On Friday afternoon, the end of a long and thoroughly over thought week, as Conor was finalising paper work at the end of the day, she leaned into the office. “I’ve managed to cancel my plans for that weekend, so I can come!”

Conor almost ran over to her, scooping her into his arms, he planted a kiss on her forehead. “Thank you, thank you, and thank you! I hope I haven’t caused you too much chaos!”

She smiled at his gratitude, not admitting for one second that sorting out her dry cleaning was about as glamorous as her plans got, or maybe scrubbing the bathroom floor. There were some things a man didn’t need to know!

Her boss suddenly went into dynamic Conor mode, “I’ll book us flights out on the Friday afternoon as the wedding is Saturday, but there’s a dinner Friday night. It’s in a castle two hours away from Dublin, and we can stay there. It’s a three day wedding, so you’ll need clothes for three days. Shall I take you shopping?”

She blushed, “I have clothes, and I can get some new things.”

He shook his head, “I’m not suggesting that you can’t wear or buy your own things, but, this is something I’m asking you to do. The least I can do is pay for you. Ok?”

Naomi could see the logic, and she wasn’t happy, but this was what he wanted, she had to stop being confrontational, so she nodded meekly not liking this loss of control particularly.

                “Are you free tomorrow afternoon? Or shall we go one night after work next week?”

She shrugged, “I’m out in the morning, but don’t have much else on after that. It’ll be easier than going in the week.” She hated shopping really, hating snooty sales assistants and crowded changing rooms. She liked clothes, but preferred to buy from catalogues and the internet than fight her way through busy town. But she could see from his confidence that shopping was no issue to him, and that he was even used to taking on the demons of the department store.

As he broke into a smile, she was filled with foreboding, “Ok it’s a deal. Shopping tomorrow, that’s the only way we’ll get what we need. Then dinner, so I can fill you in on the fine print.” Her concern turned to alarm and he grinned, “the family, a who’s who, and of course a schedule for the weekend.”

They met at two the next afternoon and Conor was still in his hyperactive, control mode, he whisked her into a few small boutiques, helping her rifle through the racks of clothes, then physically dispatched her off to changing rooms with armfuls of outfits.

                “It’s having two sisters...and a materialistic ex-wife!” he announced when she questioned his efficiency at all things boutique shopping from behind the curtain of her dressing room. “Particularly the latter! This was one of her favourite shops.”

Emerging, she raised an eyebrow before twirling in the red strapless number she’d seen from outside the shop. Naomi loved it, it clung to her full breasts, but skimmed over a stomach and hips that she had always felt were too rounded. Glancing at her reflection, she took mental notes. This was a perfect option for the pre wedding dinner, elegant yet not unflattering for her physique, she could wear it with her new red heels and that would mean she’d be elevated from the self conscious heights of five foot three.

Sitting and watching was a pleasure/pain scenario for Conor, watching her emerge in various delightful creations, he was torn between wanting to jump up and do something about the growing discomfort and his now poorly fitting jeans, and closing his eyes and pretending he was anywhere but there. He was admiring Naomi more by the minute. Her feistiness was complimented by her insecurity of being the centre of attention in these shops. If there was one thing that turned him on, it was an enigma...and she was definitely that.

                “Right,” he offered as they stopped for coffee.  “We’ll arrive during the Wedding Eve banquet; it starts at half past seven. If we get the four o’clock flight, then by the time we get the hire car, drive...we won’t be there until eight at the VERY earliest. Saying that, it won’t really get going until half past nine, so we’ll have time to change. As I told you, it’s a black tie dinner, I’m wearing a tux that night, and I thought that red dress was nice, dare I say perfect?”

She nodded; they’d seen so many lovely things that her mind was all a little blurred with it all. “I did like the turquoise dress and long jacket for the actual wedding.”

He mused for a few moments, “Good choice, the hat was a bit much though!

She nodded, “they did a matching fascinator though.”

His face contorted in confusion, “What’s the hell is a fascinator?”

Naomi laughed, she really enjoyed his company. He was so transparent, funny, and enthusiastic, “it’s the feathers and fabric thing, to wear in your hair.” She demonstrated what probably looked like a cockerel crest with her hand as she explained, laughing that this metrosexual man had been flummoxed.

                “Ahh,” he threw his head back and laughed, “I know so little about this you know!”

                “Yet you’re a natural at it!!”

So they went back to one shop and she tried on the red dress, the wedding suit as well as the fascinator. They were both exhausted by the time they’d argued over who paid, and he’d rung the purchases on to his credit card.

                “Drink?” he asked as he took the bags from the checkout, and tucked her arm into his elbow.

She nodded, “this one is on me though.” With a grin of relief she led him into a wine bar, dispatching him to a table in the corner.

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