Page 46 of A Very Happy Easter

“Really? Wow.”

“What’s more impressive is that she’s six shots of vodka in and still standing.”

Emmy peeled off the blindfold and handed the gun to Sofia. “You’re up, honey.”

Sofia giggled and took it. Emmy blindfolded her and spun her three times, and although she didn’t hit the bullseye, she did clip the edge of the black centre ring.

“Pretty close,” Emmy said as Sofia passed the gun to Gideon.

He hit farther out—still on the target, but in one of the white outer rings. I thought I’d seen all the party games rich people liked to play, but this was a new one on me. It made a change from the usual amusements of polo, golf, poker, and tax evasion.

“You want to try, mon ami?” Gideon asked, offering the gun to Heath.

“Sure, why not?”

Heath missed the target completely and cursed while Emmy chuckled and downed another shot. She must have the constitution of an ox.

“Practice makes perfect, dude. Practice makes perfect.”

“Can I try?” I asked, expecting to be laughed at, but she just smiled and said, “Go for it.”

“Do I have to wear the blindfold? Could I close my eyes instead? I swear I won’t peek.”

“Doesn’t matter if you do. We’re not your competition. The only expectations you need to meet are your own.”

Huh. Emmy obviously hadn’t met my family.

I took the gun and closed my eyes. Heath guided me around three times, and I aimed, fired, and missed.

“Dammit.”

“Not bad,” Emmy said. “You were aiming roughly in the right direction. Repetition is key—you’ll get better with time.”

“Oh, I don’t have a gun. Don’t you need a licence to own one?”

“Ten quid says that after tonight, Heath’s gonna buy a laser shooting set. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s a little competitive.”

Heath held out his hand for the gun. “Let me have another go.”

With his eyes open, he hit the black every time. I didn’t, but I did have fun trying. Nobody belittled me for being hopeless; they just offered me advice, snacks, and drinks, and I accidentally knocked back two glittery shots that left me giggling again.

Travis Thorne got out an acoustic guitar and played a few songs by himself, and a bunch of tipsy goofballs took to the ice and tried curling with a set of saucepans. It didn’t go well, but I laughed until my sides hurt. The party wound down in the early hours, and I found I was actually sorry to leave.

“The ice rink is here until New Year’s,” Bradley told us on the way out, gripping my hand in both of his. “Emmy will open it up a couple of days a week for the team—Heath can check the dates in the office if you want to come back.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Don’t forget your goodie bags.”

Heath got a black bag, and I got a pink one. Mine was filled with chocolate, plus Blackwood-branded goodies like a travel mug and a scarf. Heath’s contained blank Christmas cards, cookie mix, perfume, earrings, a unicorn bracelet kit, seed bombs, gourmet popcorn, a mini bottle of champagne, nail polish, a crochet kit, and a scented candle.

Jerilyn was playing Christmas music, and she’d hung baubles from the rear-view mirror. As the car glided through the streets, I held one of the earrings up to Heath’s ear.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Bradley helps out by picking up stocking fillers so we don’t have to. The number of people in the office who run out to do all their shopping on Christmas Eve is significant.”

“That’s sweet of him.”