The Wedding Wish

Jet lag. It had to have been jet lag.

‘Babe?’ Ben’s voice called out from the front hallway.

Holly’s hand leapt to her throat. She had not even heard the front door.

‘In here, darling,’ Beth called, sitting on an armchair they’d dragged into the kitchen to ease her aching back.

Holly understood Beth’s raised eyebrows and tight mouth. This is your last chance to change your mind, her expression said. But Holly was not to be deterred. ‘Just follow the delicious aroma of grilled chicken à la Holly wafting from the kitchen.’

Ben popped his head around the door. He leaned down and kissed his wife, not even asking why their lounge chair was in the kitchen. Holly offered her cheek for a kiss, which she duly received.

‘To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, gorgeous?’ Ben leant over Holly to have a good look at dinner. She slapped his hand as he tried to grab a piece of potato.

Holly glanced once more at Beth, who gave her a discreet thumbs up. ‘I want you to set me up with someone from your work.’

Holly clenched her face waiting for the inevitable ‘no’.

‘Sure,’ Ben answered.

Holly was too stunned to stop him spooning a baby potato into his mouth. ‘Really?’

‘Of course. It’s Derek from Payroll, isn’t it? He’s always had a thing for you, you know.’

‘For starters it’s not Derek. I mean, yuck.’

‘Come on, Ben,’ Beth said in support, ‘you know she likes tall, dark and handsome. Derek’s a weed.’

‘Then who?’

Holly proceeded to explain her inspired theory and the mechanics of her plan with endlessly increasing enthusiasm until Ben could have no doubt of her sincerity.

‘You two are serious, aren’t you?’

‘Deadly serious,’ Beth agreed. ‘I have mapped out her stars, and Holly is primed.’

Ben did a Groucho Marx with his eyebrows. Beth slapped his thigh playfully. ‘Primed for a big change, you idiot. This is serious, Ben. She is getting on in years.’

‘She’s twenty-seven.’

‘And I want to be her matron of honour while I’m still young enough and pretty enough to at least have a shot at outshining the bride.’

‘You’re nuts, the both of you. I shouldn’t let the two of you alone in a room together. It bodes badly for the future of mankind.’

‘But you will do it, won’t you, darling?’

Faced with their excited united front, there was nothing Ben could do but agree.

CHAPTER TWO

SO, THE next night Holly meandered through the outer bar of the Fun and Games sports nightclub on the arm of her best friend’s husband. She was dressed to kill in a black silk dress: fitted, strapless and split to the thigh.

‘Do you have anyone in particular lined up for me tonight?’ Holly shouted in Ben’s ear to be heard over the loud, pumping music.

‘Actually, I stuck your photo on the wall in the men’s washroom at work along with a note saying you would be here tonight. That way they can just come to you.’

‘Not funny.’ Holly punched Ben inelegantly in the arm. ‘Why is the function here?’

‘It’s one of ours. It’s Link’s idea. We hold all of our functions in various clubs we own so we are constantly reinvesting in ourselves.’

Holly nodded, impressed. ‘Ingenious. Pity all Lincoln Holdings events are managed internally. I could have a lot of fun with the budget you guys must have.’ She huddled closer. ‘Will the boss be here tonight?’

‘Link? Sorry, Holly, you can cross him off your list. He’s been running the international operations from New Orleans for the last few years.’

‘I bet he’s tall, dark, and handsome to boot.’ Holly pouted, bringing a smile to Ben’s face. The smile probably meant his boss was a married workaholic with three whining kids, a pot-belly and high blood pressure.

He took her hand and led her single file through the swelling crowd, into the private function room hidden at the rear of the club. The room had been converted into a sort of theatre in the round. The high ceiling housed an elaborate lighting rig so bright it was almost blinding.

A cheerful murmur of voices and clinking drinking glasses echoing in the lofty space had replaced the raucous club music, soundproof walls thankfully shutting out the thumping beat from the previous room.

Holly excused herself several times as they edged past people sitting in their row. The numerous men in dinner suits sent a thrill of excitement running up and down her spine. She sat and turned to Ben, ready to ask what was behind the velvet floor-to-ceiling drapes in the centre of the room but her query froze on her lips. The curtains slowly rose into the rafters to reveal—A boxing ring!

Ben chatted to a couple of male colleagues in the row in front. Their eyes all gleamed like little boys in a pet store as they launched into a detailed discussion of the two men who were about to belt it out before them.

Holly tugged on Ben’s sleeve. ‘There’s a boxing ring.’

He smiled. ‘That’s so that the boxers keep to themselves and don’t spill out into the crowd.’

‘But, I thought…I thought this was a business function. I thought we’d be sitting down, having dinner, and there would be refined and elegant men for you to introduce to me.’

‘We’re sitting. We’re eating,’ Ben said with a mouthful of mixed nuts he had picked up from a nattily dressed wandering waiter. ‘And this is Mark and Jeremy.’

The mundane middle-aged guys from the row in front smiled politely.

Ben’s twinkling eyes fast lost their twinkle when Holly grabbed him gracelessly by the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and through clenched teeth said, ‘But this was not what I had in mind.’

‘Just relax. You’ll enjoy it.’

Holly raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips and crossed her arms, demonstrating exactly how much she was enjoying the night so far. ‘I am surprised that Lincoln Holdings would associate itself with such a primitive and politically incorrect enterprise.’

‘All of Lincoln Holdings’ staff from the managing directors to the custodial staff come together for these nights. It makes inter-office difficulties seem so small and petty when compared with what these guys go through to earn a living. You should know more than anyone that if a gimmick works, stick with it.’

‘It’s not just a gimmick, Ben, it’s encouraging people to use their fists to sort out their differences. Whose idea was this in the first place?’

‘Link’s, of course,’ Ben said, grinning. ‘Forever inspirational.’

‘Sounds like a thug to me,’ Holly muttered.

‘You thought he was ingenious ten minutes ago.’