"Ssssh, everyone." He taps a teaspoon against his champagne glass. "A toast . . ." He holds the glass out in front of him. ". . . to Jess on her thirty-fifth birthday."
"Happy birthday," they chorus, all holding their glasses aloft before taking a sip. Or a hearty swig in Madeleine's case, much to Marty's obvious disapproval.
Ben remains standing.
"I just want to say a few words about the birthday girl," he continues, "because I know how much she means to us all."
The room falls completely silent, everyone concentrating on what he's about to say.
"It's safe to say it's been quite a tough year for Jess, first and foremost because of what's happened with Olivia." He pauses and looks at my sister for reassurance that it's all right to mention it. She responds with an assenting smile.
"Of
course
Olivia's trauma was the greatest of all, but I know that her illness affected Jess more than she ever let on. But she chose to confide in me, a virtual stranger.
"In a way, that was how we got to know each other and became such great friends. So Olivia . . ." He raises his glass in her direction, "as tough as it's been, thank you for that. And I must say it's fantastic to see you sitting here tonight, looking absolutely stunning. Long may it continue."
Everyone breaks into spontaneous applause and Olivia flushes bright red with a mixture of embarrassment and delight. Ben continues.
"I also know that Olivia's illness changed Jess irrevocably and made her look at life from a completely different perspective, namely that our time on this planet is too precious to waste doing things we don't want to do.
"So it was good-bye to
Good Morning Britain
. . ." A cheer goes up. ". . . and good-bye to Kara, who I never met but I understand wasn't particularly pleasant . . ."
"Darling, she made Leona Helmsley look like Goldilocks," drawls Richard.
Ben smiles, then his face turns slightly serious again. "And, thankfully, it was 'hello' to me. We've been together for four months now, but I suppose because we were friends first, it seems like a lot longer."
"A bloody life sentence, I should imagine," Richard chips in again, giving me a theatrical wink.
"Do you
ever
have an unexpressed thought?" I poke my tongue out playfully at him, then turn my face back up towards Ben.
"So," he continues, licking his lips as if slightly nervous. "I know we're all here to celebrate Jess's birthday, but there's something else I'd like to throw into the mix if I may . . . particularly as everyone who means something special to her is right here in this room . . ."
He pauses for a moment and fumbles in the left pocket of his jacket, pushing the chair to one side with his right hand. Dropping onto one knee, his left hand comes into view holding a small black box which he flips open. Inside is an exquisite, antique diamond ring.
"Jess . . ." He looks up at me, naked apprehension in his eyes. "Will you marry me?"
My mouth suddenly feels dry, as though my tongue is three times its normal size. The surface of my skin morphs into one giant goose bump, and an involuntary shiver zigzags its way down my spine. I had absolutely no idea this was coming.
Over the years, there are countless times I have thought about the moment when a man would ask me to marry him . . . how I would respond in a mature and considered way, appearing pleased but maintaining great dignity.
Oh, fuck it.
"Yes, yes, yes!" I shriek, leaping up and wrapping my arms round his neck. "Just you try and stop me!"
Bowled over by the euphoria of the moment, I bury my face in his neck and inhale his familiar smell that has become like a drug to me. I'm vaguely aware of the room erupting into whoops and cheers behind me.
Eventually pulling away, I look into Ben's face, now free of the previous tension. He's grinning broadly, his eyes tearing slightly.
Olivia and my mother are both sobbing loudly, clinging onto each other with unbridled delight that "Jess the fickle" has finally landed herself a decent, loyal man rather than a feckless, out-of-work musician who would be the new Sting if only he could get out of bed in the mornings.
"Congratulations, love, I'm thrilled for you." Dad appears by my side, his arms extended.
I fall into them. "Thanks, Dad. What a surprise, eh?"
He shakes his head. "Not for me. Ben rang me first to ask if I minded. It was our little secret."
I widen my eyes at him. "And did Mum know?"
"Are you kidding?" he scoffs. "Radio Helen? I don't think so."
After a couple more minutes of congratulations from all quarters, the restaurant owner gestures that he's ready to bring out the starter courses and everyone heads back to their seats.
As the buzz of general conversation fills the room, Olivia squeezes my leg and smiles warmly. "This is the best get-well present I could ever ask for," she says quietly. "I feel as happy as I did on the day Michael and I got engaged."
"Well, I just hope that our marriage ends up being as successful as yours," I reply.
"Oh, it will." She nods slowly. "You've got a good man there."
"Yes, I think so too." I beam. "And to think I so nearly didn't realize it."
Ben reappears at my side, pressing the "end" button on his phone. "I've just called Mum and Dad," he says, "and they send their congratulations. So do Anne and Ralph."
He stoops down and gives me a lingering kiss before tapping his champagne glass against mine. "Here's to the future Mrs. Thomas."
"And here's to the future Mr. Monroe." I beam. "It's been a peculiar journey, this one. But I've found you at last."
Also by Jane Moore
FOURPLAY
THE EX FILES
L
OVE @
F
IRST
S
ITE
. Copyright (c) 2004 by J
ANE
M
OORE
. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information, address Broadway Books, a division of Random House, Inc.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
LOVE @ FIRST SITE was originally published as
DOT.HOMME
in the United Kingdom by William Heinemann, an imprint of the Random House Group Ltd.
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ROADWAY
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OOKS
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Moore, Jane.
Love @ first site: a novel / by Jane Moore.--1st ed.
p. cm.
I. Title.
PR6113.O557L695 2005
813'.6--dc22
2004057530
eISBN: 978-0-7679-2157-2
v3.0