Blind Dates and Other Disasters: The Wedding Wish. Элли Блейк

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