Take a Chance on Me: Blind-Date Marriage / Saying Yes to the Millionaire

‘But I thought Michael Dove’s daughter was called something freaky, like Stardust or Moonbeam.’

A voice yelled from the back seat, ‘Moonbeam, my—’

‘Dad!’

‘But Mr Three-piece-suit here thinks your name is ridiculous.’

Jake shook his head. ‘There’s nothing ridiculous about being called Serena. I was just saying—’

Serena groaned again. Which was not good. It was a seriously unattractive noise, but she couldn’t stop herself. Earlier this afternoon she’d been a woman of mystery: exotic, alluring … Now Jake could find all the intimate details of her life just by picking up a tabloid newspaper.

‘Who’s Serena?’ her dad muttered.

Jake leant across the gap between their seats and whispered, ‘He must be in worse shape than he looks.’

I wish!

At least then her dad would pass out and save her from any further embarrassment. When she got home she was going to empty every bottle of spirits in their Chelsea townhouse down the kitchen sink. Including the one he kept in his guitar case he thought she didn’t know about. And the whisky that was hidden in a wellington boot beside the back door.

Her father continued to mumble from the rear of the car, more to himself than for the benefit of the other passengers.

‘Elaine named her … she was so thrilled—we thought we couldn’t have kids. Then fortune smiled on us …’

If there was an ejector seat in Jake’s BMW, she was praying fervently it would shoot her through the roof this very second.

‘There’s nothing wrong with Serendipity. It’s a beautiful name. Moonbeam. I ask you …’

Jake coughed. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You heard!’ she snapped.

There was a crinkle in his voice when he spoke next. She could tell he was holding back a snort of laughter, but, give him credit, he managed to arrest it by swallowing hard.

‘It seems you were a little economical with your name, Miss Dove.’

‘Yes, well, so were you, Charles!’

‘Let’s just call it quits and agree we are creatures of a similar nature.’

She allowed herself a small smile.

‘Maybe.’

She turned to look at her father. He was fast asleep, mouth hanging open, threatening to dribble on Benny’s shoulder if the car swung him in the right direction. Once again he was oblivious to the upheaval he’d created in her life. But it was hard to be cross with him. There was something so child-like about him. He didn’t mean to cause trouble; he just couldn’t help himself. It was as natural as breathing for him.

She closed her eyes and settled back into the comfy leather seat, letting the endless stopping and starting of the car journey lull her into a more relaxed frame of mind.

Later, after they’d bundled Dad into the house and up to his room, and Jake had made his excuses and left, she sat at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of tea between her hands and wondered if she’d ever see him again.

She thought perhaps not.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_4560d6ea-f1e9-5662-8db6-268bff63cf56)

SERENA stared out across the London skyline in an effort to distract herself from the fact that very soon her bottom was going to be frozen to the wooden slats of the park bench. The bench’s position on the brow of a hill offered little protection from the wind, even though it circled a towering sycamore.

‘It’s lovely here. What a view.’

Jake smiled and offered her a plate full of goodies from the picnic basket balancing between them. ‘A favourite haunt of mine when I was younger.’

‘Did you live close by?’

‘Not too far.’

She could imagine him living in Blackheath, the exclusive area south of where they now sat in Greenwich Park. Blackheath itself was a mile-wide expanse of flat grass, its only vertical feature the razor-sharp spire of All Saints’ church. Along the fringes of the heath were creamy Georgian villas, and she could easily imagine a young Jake bounding out of one of them each morning—grey shorts, school cap, laces undone.

‘You can see it from here, actually,’ he said.

She stared hard, but couldn’t work out where he was pointing. The houses were too blurry and indistinct at this distance.

‘You’re looking in the wrong place.’ He put an arm round her shoulder and nudged her so she faced more to the west.

‘You can’t miss it. See the three tower blocks?’

‘Beyond them?’

‘No, in them. I used to live in the one on the far right. Fourteenth floor.’

She turned to look him in the eye. ‘Really?’

‘I could see this park from my bedroom window. A beautiful patch of green surrounded by pollution and concrete.’

She laughed. ‘Very poetic.’

‘Shh! You’ll ruin my tough businessman image.’

‘I’m not sure you’re as tough as you look, Charlie.’

He gave her a sideways look. ‘Why do you keep calling me that?’

‘I don’t know. It just seems to pop out of my mouth. It must suit you.’

His jaw hardened. ‘I prefer Jake.’

‘But it’s not your real name.’

‘Ah! So I get to use your given name as well, do I?’

‘Good point. Jake it is.’ She leaned back and looked up into the leafless branches above. ‘Didn’t you have a garden where you lived? Not even a shared one?’