‘I’d organise a trip to the local secondary school if you want to connect with da youth,’ Holly teased. ‘They’ll set you right about what’s new and current.’
‘In the meantime, you’d better remind me how this flipping dance goes,’ Charlie said. He looked down at her moving hands, and then appreciatively at her as she put them behind her head, shimmied and jumped to the beat.
Holly felt her stomach flipping with desire. They’d got close to something the other day, and it seemed they were edging ever closer with every minute they spent together. Was tonight going to be the night?
Then she chided herself; did anyone else get horny when they saw their date doing the Macarena?
Throwing herself into the dance, and putting all thoughts of shagging Charlie out of her mind, she concentrated on remembering the moves. Eventually, the song ended and transitioned into something a little more sedate. Holly, breathing a little more quickly due to the tightness of the dress and the energy she’d thrown into the Macarena, again felt her heart flip as Charlie slipped his hand around her waist. The song that had come on was again rather an old one but definitely written for a different kind of dancing.
As Charlie pulled her in a little more closely, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek. They swayed together, as did all the other couples on the dance floor, and Holly started to relax.
‘That was exciting,’ Charlie murmured. ‘But not quite as exciting as this.’ He slid a hand tantalisingly lower on her back, but not too far down as to cause a scandal among this particular crowd.
‘I can’t quite believe I’m saying this, but it’s nice to be here. Right here,’ Holly clarified. ‘Although I’m still a bit under duress.’
‘I know,’ Charlie’s eyes were twinkling. ‘But you’re really impressing the hell out of everyone here, despite yourself.’
Holly shook her head. ‘Night’s not over yet.’ She turned her head slightly and caught sight of Miles Fairbrother propping up the bar in the corner of the function room. She could barely suppress a shudder. ‘That man makes my skin crawl,’ she muttered into Charlie’s shoulder. ‘How do you manage to be so bloody polite to everyone? Even when you might not be able to stand the sight of them?’
‘Desire to keep hold of my seat, and a lot of massages from a very good local practitioner,’ Charlie said playfully, although Holly noticed an intensity in his eyes.
‘I’ve heard she’s good with her hands,’ Holly murmured, and then gasped as Charlie pulled her closer, leaving her in absolutely no doubt as to where his thoughts were going.
‘Steady on,’ he whispered. ‘An MP with an erection would not go down well on this dance floor, with this crowd.’
‘You might well finish off some of your more elderly voters,’ Holly said wryly.
‘Shall we get out of here, then?’ Charlie suggested, his eyes growing darker with desire. ‘I think I’ve done my duty. And you’ve certainly gone above and beyond yours.’
‘Sure,’ Holly said. ‘I could do with getting out of these heels.’ She smiled mischievously. ‘And I’ll need a hand with the zip on this dress – Rachel had to shoehorn me into it.’
‘It would be my pleasure,’ Charlie replied. ‘But can you stop making me imagine unzipping your dress? I’ll never manage to say goodbye coherently to all these people otherwise!’ He smiled down at her. ‘Speaking of which, I should let Tom and Claudia and the organisers know we’re off. Shall I meet you in the foyer?’
‘Sounds good,’ Holly said. ‘I’ll just go and grab my stuff and meet you out there.’
With palpable regret, they broke apart.
Charlie strode off to make his excuses and Holly cast around for Rachel’s pashmina and her handbag. Seeing them on one of the chairs at the dinner tables, she wandered over to collect them. As she did so, she was irritated to see Miles Fairbrother and his fellow business owner passing the other way.
‘Bit of a turn-up to see you here, missy,’ Miles said, distaste evident in his tone. ‘Wouldn’t have thought this was your kind of scene, with all of these filthy capitalists.’
‘Well, it was a favour to a friend,’ Holly replied, trying to inject a note of brightness into her voice.
‘Yes, I can see that,’ Miles leered. ‘Really friendly, aren’t you?’
‘Excuse me.’ Holly tried to push past Miles, in pursuit of her borrowed pashmina, but he refused to budge.
‘Don’t you think it’s just a little bit rich of you, coming here tonight to schmooze the local business owners, when you’re so uppity about those of us who don’t conform to your so-called eco principles?’
‘Not really, Miles,’ Holly’s temper was starting to fray, but, mindful that this was Charlie’s patch, and Charlie’s night, she tried to keep her voice neutral. ‘Now I must be going.’
‘Not so fast, girly,’ Miles hissed. ‘I’m not finished yet.’ His face was puce with drink, his purple nose an unattractive, clashing shade. ‘You’d better not get any ideas about bending Charlie Thorpe’s ear to your Green-freak ideas. We don’t need any more of that rubbish in Willowbury.’
‘Well, you would say that, Miles,’ Holly’s voice was louder than she’d have liked, but she couldn’t help it. She wouldn’t let herself be walked over by Miles, especially after such a civilised night. ‘So long as you’re turning a profit, you couldn’t care less what, or who you damage, could you?’ Rumours were rife about the reasons why Fairbrothers had such a high turnover of staff and exactly how they disposed of their waste products.
‘Just remember, missy, it’s people like me who bankroll the campaigns of your new boyfriend. Without us, he wouldn’t have half the influence he has. You’d do well to bear that in mind.’
‘Are you threatening me? Because that’s what it sounds like.’ Holly lost what was left of her temper. ‘I might have known twats like you couldn’t help muscling in on nights like this. Well, you can leave me out of it.’ She pushed past Miles and retrieved her pashmina and handbag.
Miles put up a hand, in a patronising gesture that infuriated Holly even further. ‘No need to start calling me names, Miss Renton. I was merely having a chat.’
‘Oh, fuck off,’ Holly said mutinously. ‘You’ve been trying to get me thrown out of my shop ever since I bought it.’
Miles affected innocence, and for a moment, Holly wondered why. Then it clicked. Like a sixth sense, she knew that someone was standing right behind her.
‘Charlie’s waiting for you in the foyer, Holly,’ Tom Fielding’s voice, smooth and soothing, took the tension off the exchange. ‘Miles, can I buy you another drink?’
Miles glared one last time at Holly
‘Shall we, Holly?’ another voice said softly. It was Charlie, who’d obviously clocked what was happening and had hotfooted it back from the foyer to Tom’s side.
‘Yes, let’s.’ Holly pushed past him, her fury bubbling over as Charlie clasped Miles’ hand and shook it. She could hear him murmuring platitudes as she walked out of the ballroom, probably trying to smooth over the scene she’d just been a part of. She felt an ugly, red, heated flush creeping up her neck to her face in her anger and frustration. So much for principles, she thought. Charlie was obviously more interested in keeping his voters and benefactors sweet. Debating about whether or not to call a taxi, she figured she’d better wait for him and have it out.