Читать книгу Blind Dates and Other Disasters - Barbara Hannay - Страница 16

AT LUNCHTIME on Tuesday Holly escorted Lydia to the Lunar restaurant to meet Anabella for their first chat about her upcoming engagement party. Holly had spoken to Ana on the phone that morning and had found her bright and excited and was very much looking forward to meeting her.

Holly ordered her usual lemon, lime, and bitters with a touch of honey and Lydia ordered a pink lemonade spider with double whipped cream and chocolate topping.

Soon after Jacob Lincoln slid his impressive suit-clad frame onto the leather bench opposite her.

‘Jacob! What on earth are you doing here?’

Why? Why are you here? Holly screamed inside her head. Wasn’t I perfectly clear? Did you not promise to leave the party to me? Without interference? Without walking in here unheralded, smiling at me like that, like a naughty little boy who knows his mother would never yell at him as long as he flashed those adorable dimples.

Knowing she had been staring far too long, Holly glanced furtively at Lydia, and was glad to see she was being blithely ignored. In fact, as Lydia lowered her lipstick to her attaché case and smoothed her newly glossed lips together her wide eyes never left Jacob for a moment.

‘I beg you not to throw that drink in my face, Holly,’ Jacob said. He sent her an enigmatic smile, as though he knew something she didn’t. ‘New suit. And Anabella sends her apologies but she suddenly had to go out of town … for a week.’

Holly had to pull herself together. Lydia was now watching the two of them very carefully. ‘I spoke to her only this morning and she didn’t say a thing.’

Jacob shrugged. ‘As I said, it was sudden.’

‘And her fiancé? He was unable to come in her place?’

‘Well, he actually had to suddenly go out of town as well. With Anabella. Skiing in New Zealand.’

‘I see,’ she said, desperately seeking a way to take control of the situation. ‘So why didn’t she just cancel our meeting until she comes back?’

‘She wants the party booked for Saturday week but won’t be back in Melbourne until midday on the day before. She gave me these notes and said to follow them as a guide, but she would be happy with whatever you come up with.’

He reached over the table with a few loose sheets of pink writing paper covered with loopy handwriting. Lydia’s hand slid across the table and snapped them up.

‘I have a week and a half to organise a party for … how many people?’ Holly asked.

Lydia, who was poring over the pink pages, said, ‘Three hundred.’

‘Three hundred people?’

‘Of course it’s people, though it doesn’t specifically say people in the notes—’

‘Lydia!’

‘We can do it easily, Holly,’ Lydia said. ‘Remember the Newman do? We did that in just over a week and it was fab.’

Holly glared at Lydia, who just shrugged. ‘What did I say? It’s true.’

Holly sensed Jacob watching them, his head swaying back and forth as though watching a tennis match.

‘Look, if you think you need help or if I should get someone else to do it—’ he said.

Holly placed her hands steadily on the table in front of her. ‘No, we will be fine.’

The waiter arrived and asked if they were ready to order lunch. Jacob raised his eyebrows at Holly and his look said it all. He had laid his cards on the table; he had changed the rules and made no promises he would not do so again. So much for professional boundaries.

But now it was her move. Order the meal or don’t order the meal. Take the deal or don’t take the deal. It was decision time and it was up to her.

So Holly ordered.

Soup of the day with a side salad. It would be served quickly and could be eaten quickly. Besides, the way her stomach was reacting she probably would not keep anything heavier down.

Jacob ordered appetisers and eye fillet steak. Well done. ‘Cook it till it’s unrecognisable,’ he said, ‘then flip it and cook it some more.’

‘You should eat it rare. It’s much better for you.’ Holly nodded frantically at the waiter, willing him to change the order. Jacob shot her that peculiar enigmatic smile again and she shut up.

Lydia took a long, luxurious sip of her drink, the liquid gurgling loudly as it reached the bottom of the glass, then ordered a slice of apple pie with ice cream. ‘The sugar stimulates me,’ she explained.

Jacob laughed aloud and the young male waiter had to stifle a cough as he left.

‘So how have you been, Lydia?’ Jacob asked.

‘Fabulous, Jacob. And you?’

‘Fabulous.’ His urbane voice gave the casual word a whole different feel. Long, drawn out, smooth. Holly took a large gulp of her drink.

‘If you two are finished,’ Holly said, ‘let’s talk about the party.’ She stopped as Jacob held up his hands, his face contorted with mock apprehension.

‘You promised me I wouldn’t have to choose between pewter and bronze.’

‘But—’

‘No buts. Follow the notes if you must, but as I said on the phone you guys have carte blanche.’

It sounded perfect in theory, but Holly knew there was no way of pleasing a client without substantial input. One person’s pewter was another person’s bronze.

Obviously sensing the same looming disaster, Lydia whipped out the contract and gave it to Jacob. ‘If you could just look this over, fill in your details and the party date, sign away and we have a deal.’

Jacob did as he was told, then Holly signed alongside his name. Lydia clapped her hands together excitedly as she took the signed contract and placed it carefully in her pink attaché case.

‘Carte blanche,’ Lydia cooed. ‘My two favourite words in the whole English language.’

Jacob laughed aloud again. And Holly felt her skin resonating in response to the infectious sound.

‘So, Jacob,’ Lydia said, ‘since we can’t talk shop, tell me why you had to stop Holly from throwing her drink over you? ‘

His eyes crinkled. ‘Well, I just knew that she was expecting my sister and didn’t want her to freak out.’

‘Holly, freak out?’ Lydia scoffed. ‘She’s the coolest cucumber you could ever hope to meet.’

‘Do tell.’

‘Sure. I mean, take yesterday lunchtime; these expatriate English people who were having a British-Australian dinner. We’d spent three full days with the client finalising the seating arrangements. We had even printed up these lovely table number cards. Weren’t they lovely, Holly?’

‘They were lovely, Lydia,’ Holly agreed, flicking a quick apologetic smile to Jacob, who winked briefly before turning his rapt attention back to Lydia. Holly’s skin tingled as though that wink had crossed the table and brushed along her cheek. She crept a stealthy hand from her lap to her face and rubbed at the wayward spot.

‘Anyway,’ Lydia continued, ‘at the last minute the client realised that Joe was at table number three and Eunice was at table number four. They were both in the front row, both within spitting distance of the speaker, but Joe was sitting at a higher table number than Eunice. And this was cataclysmic. The client was ready to cancel the whole thing. In stepped Miss Cool Bananas here and said, Let’s just rename the tables; not numbers, not letters, but names of small English towns. The client hyperventilated her agreement. There went our Holly into her “magic” briefcase and found enough fancy paper and a black magic marker to rename every table. And within minutes of everyone’s arrival the whole room was in tears as they blabbed about the small English towns they all knew and loved and missed. Even Joe and Eunice were hugging each other and bawling their eyes out.’

Lydia took a deep breath and slumped back in her chair. ‘Jacob, can you look around the corner and see if my apple pie is coming? I’m starved!’

It took a moment for Jacob to latch onto Lydia’s sudden change of topic. He peeked. ‘Not just yet.’

‘Good. Holly, could you shove over for a sec? I have to take a pee before my pie comes.’

Holly obligingly moved out of her seat so Lydia could shuffle past. ‘Thanks, gorgeous.’ She flounced past Holly and skipped towards the ladies’ room.

Holly slid back down into her seat, slowly and deliberately, already marking the seconds until Lydia’s return.

‘Isn’t she exhausting?’ Jacob said.

Talk about Lydia. Excellent. Safe ground.

‘She’s enthusiastic and imaginative and the clients love her. I’ll probably end up working for her one day.’

After a moment’s pause, during which time his mind seemed to be ticking over, Jacob asked, ‘She called you “gorgeous”. Ben and Beth both refer to you in that way as well. Do you just get that particular compliment a lot?’

‘Hardly.’

Hardly a professional topic of conversation. Explain then change the subject.

‘My dad called me that since I was little. And then one day when I first met Ben he called out “Hey, gorgeous” to Beth and I answered without even thinking. And he and Beth have called me that ever since. The guys at work heard Ben call me that at the Christmas party a couple of years ago and never let it go. I barely notice it any more.’

Jacob smiled. ‘It suits you.’

‘Please,’ she scoffed, looking over her shoulder to check if Lydia was on her way back.

After another pregnant pause, Jacob thankfully changed the subject. ‘Did you really do all those things she said? Yesterday lunchtime?’

‘In a manner of speaking. Though she makes it seem much more exhilarating than it really was. It was a fairly simple fix and we’ve had worse problems closer to the final hour.’

‘There you go, selling yourself short again.’

‘Fine.’ She laughed. ‘I was brilliant. I saved the day.’

‘That’s better.’

‘But it’s my job to fix those things, to smooth the way and make the events seem effortless whilst the client sits back and takes the honour.’

Watch and learn, buddy. This party of Ana’s will blow your mind.

Jacob sat back and crossed his arms, mirroring her stance. ‘Do you see yourself branching out with your own firm?’

‘I love what I do and if I was the owner I wouldn’t be able to do it. I’d have to concentrate on finances and payroll and other such icky things. I’m happy to play with other people’s money.’

‘And this way you could more easily take time off if you needed it.’

‘I guess.’ She wondered why he would focus on that aspect. ‘But it would be decidedly more difficult to make the house payments if I was skipping off on cruises year round.’

‘You own a house?’ His eyes softened as he asked.

‘It will be a few years yet before I can claim that distinction from the bank.’

‘I see. But, if your circumstances changed, you could stop working altogether,’ Jacob added, his hazel eyes now boring into hers.

‘I guess I could.’

If I pick the right lottery numbers, or find a suitcase of money buried in my backyard.

And then it dawned on her. He was thinking that what she wanted most in a job was the flexibility to marry and have children as soon as possible.

How wrong he was! Or was he?

If she followed her plan through to its logical conclusion, wouldn’t that mean a wedding, a honeymoon, and some day children? Holly felt a comforting blush creep over her as these ideas filtered through and meshed with her original plan just to find someone nice and compatible to spend her time with. She loved her job but the thought of a full life with a real family was intoxicating.

But hang on. This was not Beth having an innocent chat, and not a prospective husband seeing where her priorities lay. This was the man who, if she played her cards right, would be going a long way to funding her pay cheques.

But would he seriously reconsider handing over the Lincoln Holdings account to her if she was planning to start a family? If so, he was completely outside his rights.

But, closer to home, would she seriously consider starting a family if it meant losing the Lincoln Holdings account, which epitomised all she had ever wanted from her career, something she had been striving for long before the notion of a husband hunt had presented itself.

But before she could open her mouth to contradict him, or berate him, or promise to give up the hunt as long as he gave her the contract, the waiter arrived with their lunch, quickly followed by Lydia.

‘Did you miss me?’ Lydia asked as she climbed over Holly’s lap and plopped into her own seat.

‘More than life itself,’ Jacob promised, shooting one final unreadable glance at Holly before tucking into his appetizer.

Her mind reeling, Holly could do little more than pick up her spoon and eat her soup.

Jacob stood outside Lunar and watched as Holly’s chauffeured car drove away, the icy wind whipping through his lightweight suit barely registered.

‘Holly. Holly. Holly,’ he whispered aloud, ‘what is spinning though that labyrinthine mind of yours?’ Holly’s uneasy expression as she’d slipped into the back of the car was branded on his mind.

He reached into his inner jacket pocket and grabbed a stick of gum. He threw it into his mouth and chewed furiously and began to walk the five blocks back to the office.

The day had not gone exactly as he had hoped.

When he’d known he would be taking the lunch in Ana’s place, he had imagined Holly would be glad to see him, keen to thank him in person for the incredible opportunity he had given her. After an hour spent flirting over lunch, he would then help her into a cab, her hand resting for a few extra moments in his, tears in her eyes, thanking her lucky stars she had met him and for him having bestowed such an opportunity on her.

Admittedly, that had been a little optimistic. But from the panic in her expression he had even worried that she was planning on reneging on the whole deal. That was the last thing he wanted. He had become used to the idea of her running a part of his show.

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.