Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish

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.’