Page 62 of Tied to You

“We’re on it, sir. We’ll make sure you have a pleasant evening.”

Sir? Pleasant evening?Who the fuck does Sparky think he’s talking to?Yeah, this guy looks like he has a few bob under his belt, but he shouldn’t dumb himself down for anyone. Ever.

“Very well. Make sure you give them a good show,” the man says, taking a sip of his Scotch before he turns, giving me his back, and walks away. What a cunt.

I turn to Sparky. He’s stock still, staring at me. “Lose your fucking bollocks, did you?”

“Fuck off.”

I balk, but I’ll let that one slide because my head’s now spinning.

“Any word from Elvis yet?” he asks me.

Fuck.“No.” I was hoping Sparky would tell me that Elvis ran off, or that he’d shit himself and was too scared to show.

“When did you last see him?” I ask him, as casually as I fucking can, now that we’re alone.

He drops what he’s carrying to the floor. “I haven’t seen him since Dean came back here and told me to leave.”

What?Dean came back here and sent Sparky on his way but not Elvis? I can’t let on that this is news to me. “Right.” I turn and walk to the van. “How much longer is this going to take?”

He smiles, plugging in a wire. “Now who’s the stuck-up wanker?”

My eyes move really slow to his. “Hurry, the fuck, up,” I sneer, before I allow my eyes to scan the crowd one more time. Still no sign of her. Where the fuck has she gone?

A whole hour later, and Sparky finally has his set up complete, the music already blaring through the speakers. Every fibre of my body has been itching to get away from him. From our spot, I haven’t once seen Mollie walk past. I tried ringing her again, but she didn’t answer it, only serving to piss me off further. “You know what to do when I call,” I say, rather than ask.

“Got it,” he says with a nod, turning back to his decks.

I walk away, glad to be finally fucking moving. The sky is dark, the only light is coming from the orange glow of fairy lights and Sparky’s set up. I keep myself hidden, moving through the shadows until I get to Dean.

“Finally,” he gripes.

I scowl at him. “Anything?” I nod my chin to the back of the house he’s been watching.

“Nothing yet.”

I think about questioning him about Elvis, but now isn’t the right time. I need his head in the game. I need my own head in the game. I’m still not over the fact Mollie’s here, and why I didn’t know thatthisis the crowd she comes from.

So different to mine. Doesn’t bother me. But maybe it will bother her?

Watching on, we wait until the dancefloor is virtually full. The sea of people moving to the beat of the music Sparky plays.

Dean nudges me without a word, flicking his head to the back of the house. No one has access except staff. And the bride and groom.

We watch as they slip away from the horde of people that are here, making their way into their house. The tell-tale signs of them making their way to their room shows as lights flick on upstairs. Brilliant.

“We going in before his happy ending, or we letting him have this?”

I laugh. “It would be rude to just barge in unannounced whilst he’s balls deep.”

We exchange a look and simultaneously stand.

“Sparky ready?” Dean asks.

I give him another nod as the music changes. “I’ll let him know to start the show now.” Pulling out my phone, I give Sparky our signal, letting the phone ring three times before I end the call.

“He’s g—” No more words come out my mouth. I catch sight of Mollie, her hand in the grasp of a woman. She’s guided to the dancefloor, and I’d say given their height and similar looks, they’re related. Her mother?