LITMIR.BIZ

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‘Don’t look so surprised that I’m here! Apart from wanting to meet you, since you’re new to the village, we’re both in the business of making marriage more attractive to the general public, aren’t we?’

      ‘I suppose we are,’ she agreed thoughtfully.

      Holly changed the music to an old-fashioned Christmas tape and began to refill everyone’s glasses, and soon the shop took on a party-like atmosphere, particularly when a few people plucked up courage and began to walk in off the street.

      ‘She doesn’t look like she’s in the market for a wedding dress!’ whispered one of Michelle’s friends to Holly, as a well-padded woman of about eighty plonked herself down on one of the window seats and began to glug contentedly at a glass of wine.

      ‘No, but she might have granddaughters who will be,’ said Holly, as she moved a bowl of peanuts away from the satin shoes.

      Pete Thomas, the reporter from the Winchester Echo, had turned up with a photographer in tow.

      ‘We want to emphasise the wedding dress competition,’ he told Holly. ‘It’s a good angle—and it’s different. When are you planning to make the draw?’

      ‘On January the First,’ said Holly. ‘First day of the New Year. New beginnings, and all that. We won’t be open—but I’ll announce the winner in the window.’ She glanced across the room to where Luke was still sitting, chatting to Michelle, only they had now been joined by Michelle’s two friends.

      For two brides-to-be, they were certainly paying a lot of interest to whatever Luke was saying, were Holly’s rather caustic thoughts. But she ignored the nagging feeling of jealousy and went round, topping everyone’s glasses up, until the shop was buzzing with chatter.

      People began to filter away just before three, when some of the light had already begun to fade from the sky.

      Michelle stood up to go, swayed on her high heels and giggled as she put her hand onto Luke’s shoulder to steady herself.

      ‘Whoops! Too much wine on an empty stomach. I need sustenance! How about you, Luke? A big, strong man like you could probably do with a plate of food, right?’

      He shrugged and gave a regretful smile. ‘Perhaps some other time. I promised Holly I’d help her tidy away,’ he demurred smoothly, meeting a pair of pleased but bewildered emerald eyes over Michelle’s head.

      Michelle shot Holly another envious look. ‘A boss who tidies up? Where have I been going wrong for all these years?’ She smiled. ‘Well, you know where I am, Luke. If you’re ever in Winchester and you fancy some company.’

      ‘I’ll be sure to bear that in mind.’ He smiled again.

      Holly stood at the door, saying goodbye to those who were leaving, though part of her was distracted, wondering whether women came on to Luke like that on a regular basis. He must have an address book like an encyclopedia, she found herself thinking wistfully. No wonder he never talked about women—he’d probably lost count!

      ‘Bye, darling!’ trilled Michelle, giving Holly the benefit of a rather glassy smile.

      ‘They loved your flowers,’ Holly told her softly.

      ‘I loved your boss,’ retorted Michelle. ‘Is he free, do you know?’

      Holly resisted the urge to tell her no—that if Luke Goodwin was lined up for anyone, then it was her. But that would be the act of a child, not a woman. She nodded, and copper ringlets dangled around her face like burnished corkscrews as she quickly turned her head to check that he wasn’t listening. ‘Well, he hasn’t talked about a particular woman since I’ve been here—and he’s definitely not married—so I think it’s fairly safe to say he isn’t in love.’

      ‘So he’s all mine?’ Michelle queried, with a delighted grin.

      ‘Well...’ Holly smiled as Michelle planted a wine-laden kiss of farewell on her cheek. ‘That’s rather up to him, isn’t it?’

      ‘Mmm,’ said Michelle. ‘I’m metaphorically licking my lips at the thought of it!’

      Everyone bar Luke had left by four, by which time the faint silver blink of stars had begun to pepper the indigo sky.

      Holly looked around. What had happened to her beautiful shop? On every available surface were empty and half-empty wine glasses, bowls containing the remaining crumbs of crisps and peanuts, and lying on the wooden floor were two fading white roses which someone had obviously plucked out of one of Michelle’s flower arrangements.

      ‘Why the sour face?’ came a deep voice from behind her. ‘I thought it went very well.’

      ‘It did. It went brilliantly.’ She drew a breath, then flapped her hands around. ‘It’s just that it all looks such a mess!’

      He threw her a disbelieving look. ‘Can this be the same woman who, days ago, was about to inhabit a building which resembled a corporation tip?’

      ‘Yes, I was. But that’s the whole point,’ she argued firmly. ‘Once a place looks beautiful, you want to try like mad to keep it that way.’

      He walked towards the kitchen at the back.

      ‘Where are you going?’ asked Holly curiously.

      ‘To find a tray for the empty glasses. Come on—I’ll help you clear up.’

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      LUKE washed all the glasses and dishes while Holly rearranged flowers, shoes and dresses, and by six the shop was looking pristine once more.

      ‘Now watch this,’ said Holly, switching off the main light and pointing to her window display. She had dressed the window to dazzle both during the day and by night, and the effect was exactly what she had been aiming for.

      A single spotlight illuminated the prize-winning gown, turning the heavy satin into a buttery gold, while the moonlight added a contrasting silvery sheen all of its own.

      For a moment he was silent. ‘It’s absolutely spectacular,’ he told her quietly, and Holly’s heart leapt with pleasure as she heard his unequivocal praise. ‘Quite stunning.’

      ‘Would you...?’ Her words disappeared into the air; she was terrified he would misinterpret them.

      In the shadowy half-light his gaze was quizzical. ‘Would I what?’

      The words spilled out like grain from a sack. ‘Would you like to come upstairs and see what they’ve done to the flat?’

      He didn’t hesitate, even though the voice of his conscience, the voice of his sanity, told him that he should have done. ‘Love to,’ he answered.

      ‘After all—you were the one who paid for its decoration!’ She wondered why she was tripping over herself to justify the invitation, which was pretty ridiculous when you thought about it. After all, she had shared his house without incident—she was hardly inviting him upstairs in order to start leaping on him!

      Luke saw that she was trembling, and frowned. ‘Have you had anything to drink?’

      She shook her head. ‘No, not even a sip. I wanted to keep a clear head, and I was so busy filling up everybody else’s glasses that I wouldn’t have had time to drink my own with any degree of enjoyment!’

      ‘Then how about we open some champagne? To celebrate properly?’

      ‘That would be lovely—but there isn’t any, I’m afraid. My budget didn’t run to champagne, but perhaps the offlicence might be open?’

      Luke laughed, went into the kitchen, and returned—carrying a frosted, foil-topped bottle. ‘No, but this very soon will be!’ He saw her look of bafflement. ‘I brought it with me when I arrived,’ he told her softly. ‘Didn’t you notice?

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