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‘You sure?’
Holly’s eyes narrowed as she turned to face Jen head-on. Jen’s fingers felt empty, the connection lost. ‘Hand on heart,’ she said, placing two fingers on Jen’s chest. ‘Have I said it already?’
Jen weighed up her options. She could let this go on, and it was fun to wind Holly up, but she also really did hate her full name, so it was probably better to put a stop to it ASAP. It was a lovely name, just not on her. The shoe had never truly fitted. If she told her now it would get it over with. She placed a hand over Holly’s, pressing it harder into her chest. ‘You’ve not said it. If I tell you, what’s it worth?’
Holly paused, deep in thought as she removed her hand and traced the condensation on her beer glass. Finally, she spoke: ‘You should set the price: it’s your name.’
A thousand ideas sprang to mind. None of them PG. ‘Why do I suddenly feel like Rumpelstiltskin?’ Jen said with a chuckle.
Holly retrieved her shoulder bag from the back of her chair and fished around. ‘I have gum, lip balm, my phone, and purse. Anything else will need to be an IOU.’
‘How about another round of drinks in Bar Orama?’
‘Consider it a deal. Although not tonight: I have a lot of deliveries to do tomorrow.’
‘Deli’s busy?’
‘Yes. Now, don’t change the subject.’
‘Worth a shot.’ Jen pulled her bank card from her trouser pocket and handed it to Holly. ‘You tell anyone, and I mean anyone, and I will never trust you again,’ she said, deadly serious.
Holly’s face was a picture. ‘Jenevieve. That’s a lovely name. Why do you hate it so much?’
‘Do I look like a Jenevieve?’
‘I think it’s a really pretty name.’
Jen shot Holly a look, unsure if that was a compliment or not. ‘My point exactly.’
Holly handed the card back and Jen stuffed it away like it was too hot to handle. ‘I think it suits you.’
The lights lowered and anticipation surged through the audience. Gabriel bounded onto the stage, along with another guy and two women, to the tune of upbeat punk music.
‘Hello, hello,’ Gabriel boomed, bouncing around like he was still psyching himself up.
‘We’re On The Spot,’ one of the women chimed in, also hopping like a hyper spaniel.
The other women bounded forward, ready to do her bit. ‘And welcome to our comedy night. What makes this part of Lovefest, I hear you ask?’
‘Well, we set the tables for couples, that’s about it,’ the final guy remarked, a goofy look on his face. Their actions were exaggerated, their expressions comical. Perhaps that was the point.
It was Gabriel’s turn to talk again. ‘We won’t waste any more time – for this scene we need one of you to shout a setting, somewhere you might go on a date.’
A few suggestions erupted from the crowd. ‘I heard club,’ not-Gabriel said, a hand cupped to his ear as he pointed in the direction of the helpful audience member.
Something told Jen this wasn’t going to be her cup of tea. But Gabriel was a good customer – she owed him her support. Plus, it was a good excuse to see Holly. She snuck a look at the brunette, who returned a content but dubious smile. Jen gave a wink as she found the hand Holly had resting in her lap. Their fingers laced together again like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Tonight wasn’t going to be bad at all.
