Page 7 of The Wedding Game

‘There’s no need,’ I protest. ‘I’m sure I can …’ But I’ve hit my credit limit. I can’t do anything.

The guy continues to look at me, waiting for an instruction as he holds out his card. I can’t pay. Oh God, this is so embarrassing. I nod reluctantly and he turns to the bartender. ‘Can you put two pints of Guinness on there too, before I forget the reason I’m queuing here in the first place.’

‘Thank you,’ I say, ‘um …?’

‘Josh,’ he says. ‘Youwereasking my name, right?’

‘I was. I am. Thank you, Josh.’ We stand for a few seconds and I realise this man is wearing the same-colour suit as Chris and is sporting the same yellow flower in his buttonhole. But he’s wearing that suit very differently. He’s both well spoken and well built, like a rugby player. His eyes are blue, speckled with lines of grey and a hint of amusement.

‘This is the bit where you tell me your name,’ he prompts, when I don’t immediately speak.

‘Lexie.’ I reply, preoccupied by my mission and the stubble around his jawline. He has dark hair, lighter than Chris’s, but I venture, ‘Are you the best man?’

He nods.

My eyes widen, while internally I silently shout,Yes! Yes!

‘I made a speech for about five minutes, which I’m guessing wasn’t very memorable,’ he says, putting on a pretend insulted face.

‘Thespeechwas memorable,’ I fib.

‘But I wasn’t?’ Josh teases, and I smile.

‘You’re memorablenow.’

He chuckles as two pints of Guinness are put in front of him. ‘Is that because I came to your rescue?’

‘It is,’ I reply. ‘If there’s anything I can do for you in return, other than transfer you some money, obviously …’

‘No need,’ he says softly. ‘Honestly.’

‘Really? I feel bad now.’

Behind us the DJ announces, ‘Now it’s time for the bride and groom to have their first dance. And,’ he looks down at the note he’s reading, ‘they request you to join them on the dance floor as soon as possible, because the groom is nervous and doesn’t dance in public.’

A few laughs and rumbles of ‘Aaah’ and ‘Oh, isn’t that sweet’ emanate around the room. It is actually quite sweet.

‘Dance with me?’ Josh asks, looking nervous, as if he can’t believe he’s just said it out loud.

‘Sorry?’ I say.

He nods his head towards the dance floor as the bride and groom cling to each other, shuffling their feet.

‘Shall we save them? One good turn deserves another and all that,’ he points out.

‘You mean you saved me, so now I need to help save them?’

‘Exactly,’ he replies, his blue eyes connecting with mine. ‘What do you say?’

The DJ helps the newly-weds slow-dance together, reiterating his request for couples to join the dance floor.

Josh holds out his hand. ‘Shall we?’

Chris! Oh my word, I suddenly remember Chris. I’ve left him out there, waiting for a drink and my return, and neither of these things has happened. I’ve lost track of my mission.

Although, now I think about it, my mission is to get off with the best man, who is standing in front of me, asking me to dance. If I pursue that, I win the gameandmy financial woes are gently alleviated for a very brief period of time, as I won’t have to fork out for a pair of expensive shoes. I also get a spa day. I’m torn. I should turn, make polite apologies to Josh, take Chris’s drink to him and continue enjoying our time together, no matter how brief it’s going to be. Because itisgoing to be short-lived. He lives in New York. I live here. Though there’s something about him.

‘Are you single?’ I ask Josh, cutting to the chase because there’s no point prioritising this gamble if he’s not.

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