Fiona Harper - Blind-Date Marriage

‘You’re Michael Dove.’

Serena groaned. He looked across at her. The car behind tooted its horn.

‘You’re Michael Dove’s daughter.’

She looked back at him, her brows knit together.

‘I know. Funnily enough, I have been all my life.’

Great! He was going to go all starry-eyed on her. Just when she’d thought she’d found a possible candidate for Mr Serendipity Dove.

Men responded in very different ways to the news that her father was a rock legend, but the outcome was always the same. It was the kiss of death. Whether they pretended not to care, or decided to use the relationship to further their own careers, it changed things for ever.

She looked across at Jake. He was very quiet.

‘But I thought Michael Dove’s daughter was called something freaky, like Stardust or Moonbeam.’

A voice yelled from the back seat, ‘Moonbeam, my—’

‘Dad!’

‘But Mr Three-piece-suit here thinks your name is ridiculous.’

Jake shook his head. ‘There’s nothing ridiculous about being called Serena. I was just saying—’

Serena groaned again. Which was not good. It was a seriously unattractive noise, but she couldn’t stop herself. Earlier this afternoon she’d been a woman of mystery: exotic, alluring…Now Jake could find all the intimate details of her life just by picking up a tabloid newspaper.

‘Who’s Serena?’ her dad muttered.

Jake leant across the gap between their seats and whispered, ‘He must be in worse shape than he looks.’

I wish!

At least then her dad would pass out and save her from any further embarrassment. When she got home she was going to empty every bottle of spirits in their Chelsea townhouse down the kitchen sink. Including the one he kept in his guitar case he thought she didn’t know about. And the whisky that was hidden in a wellington boot beside the back door.

Her father continued to mumble from the rear of the car, more to himself than for the benefit of the other passengers.

‘Elaine named her…she was so thrilled—we thought we couldn’t have kids. Then fortune smiled on us…’

If there was an ejector seat in Jake’s BMW, she was praying fervently it would shoot her through the roof this very second.

‘There’s nothing wrong with Serendipity. It’s a beautiful name. Moonbeam. I ask you…’

Jake coughed. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You heard!’ she snapped.

There was a crinkle in his voice when he spoke next. She could tell he was holding back a snort of laughter, but, give him credit, he managed to arrest it by swallowing hard.

‘It seems you were a little economical with your name, Miss Dove.’

‘Yes, well, so were you, Charles!’

‘Let’s just call it quits and agree we are creatures of a similar nature.’

She allowed herself a small smile.

‘Maybe.’

She turned to look at her father. He was fast asleep, mouth hanging open, threatening to dribble on Benny’s shoulder if the car swung him in the right direction. Once again he was oblivious to the upheaval he’d created in her life. But it was hard to be cross with him. There was something so child-like about him. He didn’t mean to cause trouble; he just couldn’t help himself. It was as natural as breathing for him.

She closed her eyes and settled back into the comfy leather seat, letting the endless stopping and starting of the car journey lull her into a more relaxed frame of mind.

Later, after they’d bundled Dad into the house and up to his room, and Jake had made his excuses and left, she sat at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of tea between her hands and wondered if she’d ever see him again.

She thought perhaps not.

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