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Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish
Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish

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Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2019
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So what was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she be thrilled with what he was offering her? For the first time in ten years, he was contemplating handing over the public face of his company. Didn’t she understand that? Understand the incredible chance he had taken?

For her?

As he’d watched her reactions with a studied eye at lunch she had fidgeted, blushed, and avoided direct eye contact. He knew he definitely did not repulse her as she had apparently claimed to Ben. Nevertheless, whatever she had felt that morning on the street had caused a strong reaction in her, and she’d created her husband hunt as a wall, an excuse not to face those feelings.

Since he’d unwittingly slung her into her current predicament, maybe he was the only one who could release her. He was simply unable to give her what she wanted most. But he could supply the next best thing—the job she had always dreamed of.

A car beeped its horn as Jacob stepped out onto the road. The street sign read ‘Don’t Walk’. But he needed to walk. He waited only a second for the car to pass, then jogged across to the other side and resumed his march, more determined than ever to find a way to make the obtuse woman appreciate that he was doing as much as he could for her.

‘Come on, gorgeous. Spill the beans.’ Lydia was sitting sideways in the back seat of the car, her seat belt stretched across her angled frame.

‘About what?’

‘About that whole weird and wonderful lunch, that’s what. I was all ready to impress the socks off the sister in case you were still on audition or something and then in he comes in his three piece suit, and onyx cuff-links, all sophisticated and debonair and … I have stop for a moment and just say, yummy …’

Lydia paused to let this new assertion resonate for a moment until she seemed happy that her point had been made.

‘To paraphrase, in comes the supreme Mr Lincoln. Then he sits across from you and he changes; he sort of melts as the look he gives you is all adorable and schmaltzy, like he’d prefer to be sitting on your side of the table just so he can look at you up close and personal.’

‘Please!’ Holly interjected, her cheeks fast burning up.

‘I was there. I saw. And I also see you aren’t wearing your lucky suit.’

‘My what?’

‘Whenever we meet with a new client you wear the charcoal trouser suit with the white sleeveless shirt with the plunging neckline and the sexy frill. But not today. Today you’re suddenly going out of routine and wearing this dreamy new number.’

Lydia motioned to Holly’s impeccable cream calf-length, fitted, square-necked dress.

‘It is neither dreamy nor new,’ Holly replied truthfully, but she knew that she had taken a great deal of care choosing what to wear to the lunch. ‘And I did not know he was going to even be there today.’

‘But you were going to meet his sister. And who would you more need to make a good first impression on than the sister? It all fits. The goo-goo eyes you two kept shooting at each other were so telling. So spill!’

‘He attended my Hidden Valley day as well as the Arty Pants evening, liked them, then offered me the job.’ Close enough anyway. ‘He’s a client, that’s it.’

‘Not if the divine Mr Lincoln has anything to say in the matter. You’ve got him hooked. Reel him in and be done withit.’

Lydia was such a dreamer, looking for romance in every chance encounter any time of the day or night. She simply had no idea what sort of person Jacob Lincoln was. She had not been there the other night to see the colour drain from his face at the thought of marriage. Goo-goo eyes or no goo-goo eyes, he was a hopeless case. No strings. No complications. No way.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HOLLY spent Wednesday at the press junket for a new opera, which would be hitting town in the coming Spring. Thursday she managed the dressing of a debutante ball venue, which she then attended that same night. Alone. Stag. Sans date.

What with the party looming, she told Ben, she really did not have time to concentrate on her personal project. In a couple of weeks she would be back on track, but for now all dates were suspended. Suspended indefinitely if that meant landing the Lincoln Holdings account? Perhaps. She hadn’t yet given herself the luxury of making that decision.

So in between more imminent projects Holly and Lydia had prepared a detailed preliminary plan for Anabella’s party, and they knew it was going to be the best shindig they had ever thrown. But in order for this to be the best shindig they had ever thrown, the client had to be one hundred percent behind them and she knew she could not go any further without that surety. So last thing Friday afternoon Holly called Jacob.

‘Holly! I’m surprised to hear from you—pleasantly surprised, of course.’ His voice was loud and muffled as he was obviously talking on his car phone. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘The thing is I really do feel that I should show you our initial plans for the party. You know Anabella, and all I know is she likes pink paper. It’ll only take a few minutes, I promise.’

‘Sure. How about tonight?’

Holly looked at her watch. But she had no set plans and knew she should really strike before he changed his mind. ‘Great.’

‘Will Lydia be tagging along or will it be just you?’

‘Just me, I’m afraid. Lydia’s off to try out some new dance club in the city. The stamina of that girl constantly amazes me.’

‘Then how about my place? I’m on my way there now.’ She could hear the smile in his voice and it took all of her concentration not to picture him doing so.

‘No, I don’t think—’

‘Why not? I’ll cook. It’s my turn.’

‘There’s no need for that. It will only take a minute.’ Holly bit her thumbnail. ‘Where do you live?’

‘Port Melbourne.’ He gave the address. On the water’s edge and only a few minutes drive from work. She looked around her office. Fabric samples, menus and brochures swamped every spare surface. Quick decision, to stay late on a Friday night and clean up a week’s worth of mess or—?

‘Okay. How about I pop around in about half an hour? But please don’t cook. I’ll be out of your hair in time for the evening news, I promise.’

‘I’ll see you in half an hour, then,’ was Jacob’s only guarantee.

‘Well, there you go,’ Jacob said aloud as he hung up.

The excitement in Holly’s voice when talking of the party had been palpable. He had wanted to give her something to focus on other than her unreasonable husband hunt and it seemed this party had done the trick.

But why invite her over to your place? How does that help? Having her alone, at night, in your home, your private sanctuary?

No worries. It would be fine. This night would simply be the passing of the torch to their new professional relationship. And once that was established, they would be on stable ground. She would be happy professionally and he would be free and clear of any obligation he might have felt considering his part in her quest.

Okay, if it’s a business meeting we should have an agenda. Much easier to stay in control of the situation if it’s mapped out beforehand. First let her get comfortable with you as a business associate, second go over her presentation, and third send her home with the energy and high spirits to complete the project satisfactorily.

If dinner is involved, that’s fine too. And maybe a bottle of wine. It will be business, not personal. All to ease the transition, of course.

He put his car in gear and barely kept under the speed limit all the way home.

Holly hurried into her office bathroom to grab a glass of water and caught sight of herself in the floor-length mirror. She was wearing her ‘lucky suit’, as Lydia called it, and was glad Lydia was not there to ask if it meant she was feeling lucky. And Beth would have a conniption fit at such a time, professing all sorts of fortuitous signs from her choosing that outfit on that day.

‘It’s nice and it’s comfortable,’ Holly said aloud to her reflection. ‘Besides, tonight is just a presentation like you have done a hundred times before. Choosing to wear a particular outfit hardly portents anything out of the ordinary.’

She smoothed down the neat charcoal pinstripe trouser suit, and soft white sleeveless shirt with its plunging neckline. She ran her fingers through her hair, which for once she was wearing long and loose.

Blissfully ignoring her messy office, she popped the presentation in her ‘magic’ briefcase, hoping the information inside would work its magic that night, and headed out.

Walking along Lonsdale Street to where her car was parked, she passed the spot where she had first run into Jacob. A flash of intense eyes, mussed hair, hordes of luggage.

She had told Lydia that she had been head down, thinking of work that morning. But the truth was she had seen him exit his hotel. She had watched him, arms full of luggage, chill wind whipping his hair about his face, beckoning the hotel doorman to remain inside, insisting he stay out of the cold.

He had been so handsome, huffing and puffing in exertion as he had navigated his way, unassisted, to the kerb. And she had been smitten.

Holly slowed as she passed the hotel, the memory of him dragging his tired eyes from the bustling traffic to glance in her direction sending a delightful shiver along her spine.

He had not let go of his cumbersome cases, or stopped heading to the edge of the road, but from that moment he had only had eyes for her. And that look, both exhausted and vibrant, along with its accompanying hint of a smile, had almost frozen her to the spot. Only the biting cold and primal need to get inside to warmth had kept her legs moving. He’d watched her with such unconcealed interest, though her extremities had frozen, her insides had melted. Her pulse had quickened, and she’d barely been able to focus from the blood pumping so hard and fast through her head.

She’d had no choice; she’d had to pass him to get to her office, the front door of which had been barely a block behind him. She had walked on, unsteady but determined, her knees shaking as she’d walked closer and closer, her breathing ragged, unable to drag her eyes away from the stranger in her sights. Then—

Bam!

How they had come to collide, she had no idea. They had both been walking towards one another, eyes locked, and in those last few seconds should have tacitly agreed to walk to one side, allowing the other to pass. But somewhere during those last few seconds, neither had been able to do as politeness dictated.

Mightily embarrassed at having found herself sprawled at his feet, and at the fact that she had been devouring him with her eyes only moments before, she had lashed out, and the exquisite spell that had woven its way around her heart had been shattered.

Having passed the hotel and rounded the corner, Holly shook off the disturbing memory. It was not at all productive thinking about it, not for their business relationship, nor if she had any serious hope of eventually finding someone else, someone compatible to spend her life with. No point daydreaming about someone so unsuitable and unattainable.

It was time she heeded her own advice to Jacob, and pretended it never happened.

Twenty minutes later Holly stood outside a large five-storey apartment building in Port Melbourne. She pressed the intercom button for the penthouse, no less.

The street was bustling with young people rugged up in overcoats on their way to pubs and popular restaurants along the water’s edge. A fair way down a long jetty, the cruise ship the Spirit of Tasmania waited silently to take her human cargo on her nightly trek across Bass Strait.

After about a minute, Jacob’s voice answered, ‘Holly?’

‘Yep.’ Her teeth chattered from standing in the biting cold.

‘Come on up.’

The door buzzed and Holly scampered inside, thankful to be warmed by central heating once more.

She approached the security guard at the desk and he checked her name against a list before pointing the way to the lifts.

As she rode the lift to the top floor Holly prepared herself for a glimpse into Jacob’s private world. If a man’s home was his refuge, she craved to see what Jacob’s home would divulge. Floor five lit up and the doors opened. The sweet fragrance of soy sauce and honey and tremulous strains of jazz music wafted into her cubicle.

Holly had thought her own home attractive and quite substantial, but this was something else. Jacob’s home was neither stark and intimidating, nor overtly manly. Instead, with its open-plan, blonde polished wood floors, strategic ambient lighting and elegant neutral furniture it was tasteful and welcoming.

A stainless steel kitchen took up the right side of the huge room. A three-piece lounge suite filled the left side facing a fireplace, above which two oversized abstract prints of American jazz singers held pride of place. A shiny golden trumpet was the only item adorning the mantel.

On a raised platform at the far end sat the dining suite. The entire far wall was comprised of ceiling-to-floor tinted windows. The multicoloured twinkling lights of the city skyline and the glow of the fast-setting sun shone through the extra-thick smoky-grey glass producing a mercurial spectacular view.

She called out, ‘Hello? Anyone home?’

Jacob poked his head out of a hidden doorway on the far side of the kitchen. ‘Grab a drink from the bar in the kitchen. I’ll be with you in a sec.’

His head disappeared again.

On the kitchen bench Holly found Jacob’s tray of spirits lined up with a crystal decanter and crystal glasses. Ignoring the offer, she discarded her briefcase on the floor next to the bench and did a turn about the room.

She ran her hand across the back of the soft cream lounge, scanned the titles of the numerous books lining the long hip-high bookshelves that separated the dining room from the lounge. She walked up the three steps to the raised level and marvelled at the city lights reflecting off the glass-topped dining table. She could feel the cool of the coming night radiating through the thick glass of the window. She moved to stand so close her breath formed on the window.

‘You like?’

Holly turned with her hand at her heart as Jacob’s soft voice scared her out of her reverie. She had not even heard him come up behind her.

He handed her a glass of red wine and she took a quick sip. Peeking over the top of her wineglass, she noticed his hair was still damp as evidenced by the smooth comb lines running through it. And even through the intoxicating aroma of the heavy red wine she could smell mint. Toothpaste? Then she remembered seeing a few faint shiny patches on the floor on her way in. It suddenly registered that the patches were in fact wet footprints and that she must have caught him in the shower.

She turned back towards the window, hoping he had not noticed her blush. ‘How could anyone not like it? Your apartment is lovely, Jacob. And the view is breathtaking.’ She swept a hand in front of her, encompassing the entire panorama.

‘This was the first residential property I bought,’ Jacob said.

‘You own the building?’ Holly asked, spinning back to face him, her intrigue overcoming her embarrassment. Marble floors, a security guard, city views. Phew.

‘I did. I financed its refurbishment several years ago and then sold it off piece by piece, keeping the best apartment for myself. Admittedly I made no money on the deal, I came out even for the first, and hopefully last, time, but I think the sacrifice was worth it.’

‘Indeed.’

‘Every time I come back it makes me wonder why I ever chose to leave.’

Holly took another sip of the delicious wine, entranced by the city lights reflected in Jacob’s eyes and unable to swallow down an unreasonable hope that he would never leave again. As though sensing the acute emotion she could not contain, Jacob took a small step forward, bringing them to within a foot of each other.

She felt a torrid tingling sensation well up in her feet as all of the blood seemed to have ventured further north.

The cool perfumes of mint and now shampoo fought for her attention. With them came jumbled scented memories of fresh rain.

She watched Jacob’s hand leave his glass and slowly, slowly ease its way towards her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her hands felt slippery and warm as she clutched the glass to her chest.

Her eyes closed, too heavy with expectation to remain open any longer, and she waited, unable and unwilling to prevent whatever was about to happen.

CHAPTER TWELVE

AND then the music stopped. The jazz CD had finished. With a slight cough Jacob stepped that same small step back to his original position.

This movement snapped Holly out of her trance and after blinking rapidly several times she too moved, willing her numb legs to step smartly around him and down the steps towards the kitchen.

‘I have the presentation in my bag,’ she prattled as she moved further and further from the window, and from Jacob, her heels clacking on the polished wood floor, the noise comfortingly louder than the beating of her heart. ‘Maybe we should sit on the couch and I’ll go through it with you quickly so I can get out of your hair.’

She placed the half-empty glass on the kitchen bench and reached down to grab her briefcase.

Jacob had moved down to the bookshelves and was restarting the CD in the discreetly concealed stereo. As the soft strains of the mellow song wafted from numerous hidden speakers around the apartment Jacob turned to face her.

Holly stood, rooted to the spot. The moment was upon her. This was what she had so keenly wished to see. The man in his environment.

The reality was a man a couple of inches over six feet, with thick springy dark hair, rich hazel eyes frayed by long, dark lashes. A man whose slightly crooked smile could turn her knees to butter and whose occasional dimples made her lose her focus and resolve every time they surfaced. A man wearing velvety soft chocolate-brown trousers, a lightweight sweater, which emphasized the width of his shoulders and the well-developed muscles beneath, a silver and gold two-tone sports watch, no rings or other jewellery. A man content to spend a Friday night at home on a comfortable couch, sipping on a good red wine and listening to lazy jazz music.

Jacob walked towards her and she saw that he was also a man wearing no shoes. So that’s how he crept up on me so quietly, Holly thought as her eyes snapped back up to his. The cheeky look in his eyes dared her to accuse him of anything.

As he approached her she stood her ground, her briefcase held like armour in front of her. Once at her side he leaned towards her. Her breath caught in her throat and she could not move. Then at the last second his hand reached out, grabbing her red wine glass from the kitchen bench top. Then just as casually he turned and strolled towards the lounge. He had not come within a foot of her yet she was shaking from his proximity.

‘Are you coming?’ he called over his shoulder.

Holly released the deep breath she had been holding, gathered her wits then walked over to join him. He had lounged on one of the long four-seater couches in his usual idle manner and she joined him there, though far enough away that their knees had no chance of touching.

‘What important details have you got to show me?’ Jacob asked, amusement lacing every word.

Holly glared at him. ‘You may not think this meeting will be valuable, but if it means that Anabella’s party is the better for it then why object?’

Rather than be offended, he looked at her with respect, as he always seemed to when she stood up to him. ‘Go ahead, then. Though I must say I never once said your coming here would prove invaluable.’

‘Yes, well, good, then,’ she stammered as she collected her thoughts. But once she clapped eyes back on her party notes, her confidence returned. This she could do in her sleep.

She went through every detail regarding venue, catering and décor, leaving not a single suggestion out. She finished her presentation with the fact she had chosen a luxurious banquet hall owned by Lincoln Holdings, as she already knew he preferred to use his own establishments for his events. When Jacob did not respond she looked up to find his eyes spectacularly crossed.

‘What was that for?’

He uncrossed his eyes and grinned. ‘First things first, Holly—you do realise that I am a man?’

She had not met a man more obviously masculine. ‘For the sake of argument, yes.’

‘Well, then, you must understand that I find words such as “georgette” and “decoupage” mind-boggling.’

Holly went to interrupt but Jacob held a finger to her lips, shutting her up quick smart.

‘Believe me, I am not diminishing what you do, I hired you because I admit you can do it better. If you came here for my approval, then you have it. Book everything. Hire everybody. Just go right ahead. But first things first, stay right where you are.’

He quickly pulled his finger from her mouth, kissed it and placed it back on her lips before bounding out of the chair and jogging into the kitchen.

‘Now, I have to give this a quick stir and add the veggies for half a second and then I will be able to blind you with my culinary talents.’

‘Oh, no,’ Holly said, shoving her bits and pieces quickly into her briefcase, fighting the urge to vigorously rub away the warm impression his finger had left on her lips. ‘I thought I made it clear I wasn’t staying for dinner.’

As she passed by the kitchen her nostrils were filled with that same delicious soy and honey aroma she had smelled earlier. Her stomach grumbled and she placed her hand over it to quell the noise, hoping Jacob had not heard.

‘Do you have dinner plans already?’ he asked. Another hot date with a potential husband, was left unsaid, but it echoed clearly enough in the air between them.

Holly opened her mouth to answer and in the moment during which she should have come up with a believable lie, she wavered, picturing her dark, empty apartment and the leftover tuna casserole she was planning to reheat.

Still she was about to decline when she caught the look on Jacob’s face. Though he was acting cool, aloof, indifferent, he was obviously sweating on her answer. His lips had thinned, pressed together too tightly, he was stirring the dinner ingredients more vigorously than seemed necessary and he kept shooting her short, accusatory sideways glances. If she hadn’t known him better she would have thought him jealous.

After several moments of telling silence, Jacob’s shoulders relaxed, his thinned lips softened into his usual crooked, beguiling smile and she knew he had caught her hesitation loud and clear.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘So stay.’ He added the vegetables to the mix with a deft hand.

He seemed so relaxed. As if he had flipped a lever and they had gone from God knew what to business associates in the blink of an eye. Maybe he could turn his nature on and off like that but Holly was not so fortunate.

‘Don’t you find this in the least bit uncomfortable?’

‘What’s that?’

‘That you know about my future plans and desires. I find it uncomfortable enough to face you as a friend of a friend, much less as a prospective client.’

That earned her another of his unreadable glances. ‘I understand what you think you mean,’ he said, ‘but I just don’t believe you.’

‘Excuse me?’

He paused, stopped stirring and stared. ‘The truth is I like you, Holly.’

Holly gripped her briefcase tight, clinging to it, feeling as though if she let go it would rise to the ceiling like a dozen helium balloons and take her with it.

He paused a moment to taste the stir-fry and, obviously finding it satisfactory, he finished his thoughts.

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