Part 5
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"Any sign of him?" John asked as soon as they'd entered the main part of the fayre which was a large hall full of stalls and booths.
"Give us a chance," Donna retorted as they sauntered along, dodging around people. "I've only just walked in through the door. Knowing Lance, he'd want to pick a prime spot." Pushing through the crowd, she suddenly turned to grasp John's arm. "There he is," she hissed. "Come on."
But John let her forge on ahead without him. He hung back to hold up his phone to take photos and any footage that his customer might need.
As Donna forward, she realised that John wasn't by her side strode, yet she wasn't worried. He was bound to catch her up quite soon. Instead, she aimed towards the Racnosa company stand where his quarry, Lance, was currently chatting animatedly to a pretty bride-to-be, a young woman who kept blushing coyly.
"You're too young and beautiful to be getting married," she heard Lance schmooze the woman as he leaned in close to add intimacy.
"I'm old enough," the woman replied, preening under the compliment. "In ten months' time I'll be on my honeymoon."
"With me?" he joked, gaining another blush.
She playfully batted at his arm. "No. With my husband, silly!"
Unfortunately, it was all too familiar for Donna as she stood watching him. The slimy, cheating piece of….
Feeling eyes upon him, Lance suddenly turned and caught sight of her. "Donna! Well I never. I didn't expect to see you here," he exclaimed. "Hello. It's good to see you looking so well."
That was shorthand for 'fat' when he backhandedly criticised people, and she'd often heard him use it in the past. "Hello Lance. I thought I'd hang out where the brides are for a while. You seem the same as always."
The woman looked startled at the frosty exchange, and stayed near Lance's side, just in case the newcomer was as violent as her ginger stereotype. Feeling her tremble, Lance patted her arm in comfort, silently telling her not to worry. "Are you here helping one of your many taken friends arrange their marriage?" he sarcastically asked Donna.
"Not exactly," she had begun to answer, when John suddenly swept up from behind her and grasped her firmly around the waist, giving her a loving squeeze.
"Sorry I lost you for a moment," he crooned and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Am I forgiven?"
Lance scrunched his face up in utter disgust. "Who's this?"
Okay, she expected to get an explanation from him later but for now she'd go with the flow. "John, this is Lance," she carelessly introduced her ex-boyfriend.
Keeping a possessive arm around Donna, John politely held out a hand towards Lance to shake. "How do you do, Lance. No doubt you've heard all about me, knowing my Donna. I'm John, her fiancé."
My what! In answer, she deliberately patted his cheek with tenderness. "Now, now, I do manage to stop talking about you once in a while."
He dropped his hand away from a bemused Lance in order to fondly smile at her. "About as often as I don't talk about you." And added in a nose rub to the show of affection.
"So, you two are engaged?" Lance managed to ask. "Where's your ring?" he then accused.
But John easily waved that off. "That's why we came here, to look for rings and other stuff. Why did you come here?"
"I run this stand and am an integral part of the business," Lance stated, pointing the banner above him that proclaimed the business he worked for.
Yet John refused to be impressed. "I thought you were working in Human Resources. Not exactly part of the job description, is it?"
"I changed jobs," Lance testily replied. "I no longer work for H.C Clements but am with Racnosa, a new company that supplies bridal transport with a special personal touch."
No doubt that meant running his clammy hands all over them, both John and Donna thought.
"Not much of a step up," John noted. "Anyway. We must get on and leave you to whatever it was you were doing," he retorted with a vague nod towards the younger woman.
Having been brought into the conversation, she risked wondering, "Excuse me. Hi, I'm Linda. You don't know me. I hope you don't mind me asking, but I'm sure I've seen you before."
"You might have done," John agreed.
"He's been in magazines," Donna proudly gushed.
"Well," John feigned humbleness modestly, "I've been in a few, like last month's GQ magazine."
"That's it!" Linda cried in recognition. "There was a three-page spread. You were dressed in a beautiful designer suit. All sort of…" She made a groaning, slightly strangled sound in demonstration. "I love your look. Wish I had hair like that."
The look of awe on Lance's face was worth the moment.
"That was Armani, of course. Thank you," John genially acknowledged the compliment with a nod and then hugged Donna closer. "Sorry but we have to go. It was nice to meet you both."
"Bye," Linda faintly answered, giving a tiny wave. She would later chastise herself for not getting an autograph.
Whereas Lance merely carried on gawping like a landed fish. "Donna? With him? How?" he could be heard to mumble.