Blind Date Rivals. Nina HarringtonЧитать онлайн книгу.
with that he swaggered off across the polished floorboards with his shoulder pads leading the way.
Sara sighed and sat back in her chair. ‘That man is almost good enough for you. Almost. And how is the birth day girl?’
Helen slapped her a little too vigorously on the back. ‘Fan. Tastic. I need to catch up with the catering manager, and find out where your date has got to, but I will be right back. Stay put.’
‘You are not going to leave me here on my own?’ Sara could not hide the desperation in her voice.
‘Of course not,’ Helen replied, giving her one of her looks. ‘Mingle, darling. Mingle. See you in five!’
Sara shook her head with a grin as Helen skipped her way through the crowd, then stopped to chat to a sword carrying pirate who had started a play fight with a young man waving a light sabre.
With a low chuckle, Sara lifted her evening bag higher onto her shoulder, sashayed out into the room and accepted a cool glass of champagne from a formally dressed waiter who winked at her as he presented his silver tray. She winked back. The young couple who ran the village post office were always grateful for extra work at the hotel and she could see his wife on the other side of the room reorganising the buffet display.
Fantastic! Now she had two more people to chat to.
She was just about to turn away when a slim man in a very stylish black suit, wearing white gloves and a flowing cape with huge red lapels, strolled into the room as though it was the deck of a luxurious yacht. He held his body in a stiff and mannered way—aloof and imposing. He was dark and so classically handsome that Sara could only gaze in awe. The gene fairy had certainly waved her magic wand over this boy.
All in all, he looked every inch the poster boy for the modern city executive he no doubt was. Polished and slick as steel. Confident in his abilities and accustomed to taking charge in any situation. A true captain of industry.
Sara gave a low sniff at the memory of all the boys she had dated over the years who had been clones of the man she was looking at. She had been there, done that and had been disappointed time and again when it turned out that they were far too interested in dating someone who they could introduce to their family as the only daughter of Lady Fenchurch rather than find out who she was as a person.
Being at the end of a long line of aristocratic landowners certainly had its disadvantages. Especially when she did not have any rights to a title of her own.
Then Caspar instantly greeted him warmly and pointed him over towards the bar, except that as he turned away she caught a fleeting look on Count Dracula’s face which she identified with only too well. It only lasted a fraction of a second but it spelt out that he felt lonely and foolish and out of place. Almost as though he had been dragged there and dressed up against his will.
Leo Grainger glanced around the room, then stared in horror as Caspar passed him a very odd-looking steaming drink. ‘You do know that you are the one and only person on this planet who could drag me to Helen’s birthday party dressed like this? I just thought you ought to know that. For the record.’
‘What are friends for?’ Caspar replied, waving his Kaplinski cocktail in the air. ‘Think nothing of it. And no, I had nothing whatsoever to do with Helen setting you up with her old school friend. Sorry, pal, but she who must be obeyed has decreed it so. Anyway, it is the least I could do after you offered us the free use of the hotel.’
Leo tipped his head and raised his glass towards Caspar’s. ‘It was my pleasure. There are some compensations for being related to the owner. I was happy to help. And Helen looks as lovely as ever.’
‘That she does,’ Caspar replied, slapping Leo on the back one handed and almost making him spill his drink. ‘Why don’t you make a start on the food? And while you’re checking out the buffet I’ll check on my future bride. The lovely Helen has some sort of surprise entertainment up her sleeve to finish off the evening and I want to be prepared. Back in a minute.’
And with that the gangster rolled across the room, swaggering his shoulders dramatically from side to side.
Leo blinked several times, shook his head, took one sip of the cocktail, almost choked and quickly picked up a glass of sparkling water from a passing waiter with a smile and grateful thanks. If that was the effect a Kaplinski cocktail had on an otherwise fairly normal lawyer like Caspar, he would pass. For this job, he was prepared to remain sober and very alert. And risk the canapés.
Only as he peered across the room towards the buffet table he was struck by something rather remarkable. One of the elegant party guests was talking to the waitress who was juggling empty platters and plates. And not just idle chatting in a condescending way but really laughing and sharing a joke so that when she started jiggling along and shaking her slim and very attractive hips in time with the lively music playing in the background, his own feet starting tapping with them.
For the first time in days an ironic smile creased the corner of Leo’s mouth. He had so many vivid memories about the rude and arrogant guests and diners he had served during his days as a general waiter and dogsbody in his aunt’s hotel. They had been tough times when he had been glad of the work but it had been hard going and he had never truly got used to being ignored or verbally abused—it had been part of the training at the University of Life.
One thing he had learned was that a guest who actually took the time to connect with the serving staff and treat them as human beings was a rare creature. The crowds cleared a little and he could just make out that the tall brunette with the short hair was even lovelier than he had expected.
She was wearing a classic little black dress and black evening gloves. Pearls, of course. Elegant. Cool, but she still came over as somehow comfortable. That was it. She looked comfortable inside her own skin. She was not beautiful or sleek but somehow real with a natural prettiness and totally relaxed body language that she was not ashamed of.
The fact that her long slim legs tapered into lovely shapely ankles was an added bonus. This was no country bumpkin—this was an elegant and classy city girl who had been trapped here in the back of beyond like himself.
Perhaps he had found someone to talk to at this party after all.
CHAPTER TWO
SARA walked slowly along the buffet table, loading up her plate with bite-sized mouthfuls of the most delicious food. The hotel chef was amazing and, after three glasses of the Kaplinski cocktail whilst waiting for Helen, who was still mingling, she was in need of something more solid to add to her stomach. Her snatched lunchtime sandwich was a distant memory, and she wasn’t entirely sure she had finished that. Okay, she was having a slight problem using the serving tongs while wearing long evening gloves which were slightly too large for her, but hunger had won out in the end and her reward was a plate heaped up with goodies.
The gloves were going to have to come off during the actual eating process—but some things were worth the sacrifice. And at this rate it would not take long for her to scoff the lot.
She had just paused at the mini pizza platter when the strains of a familiar musical theme song belted out above the background chatter. Her hand trembled as a tsunami of emotion and sentimental angst swept over her. All it took were a few lines of lyrics and the sound of a studio orchestra … and she unravelled.
It had always been the same. Sounds and music were associated for ever in her mind with specific people and places and events, and there was nothing she could do about it—that was the way her mind worked. All she had to do was hear the opening bars of a tune and she was right back in that moment.
Pity that it had to be now.
It had been a long busy week and the last thing she wanted was to walk into a party with a soundtrack playing music from one of her grandmother’s favourite musicals. Just the memory of her grandmother holding her hand as they danced around this room, both singing at the top of their voices and having so much fun, was enough to get Sara feeling tearful.
She