скачать книгу бесплатно
‘Not with half my team at the restaurant interested in her, she won’t! Whenever she comes in, a fight breaks out over who’ll make her pear crumble.’ Max winked and gave my shoulder a squeeze.
I felt my face flush with pleasure. I knew he was probably lying, but I appreciated the gesture.
Before I could thank him, DJ Maurice’s voice boomed out across the reception hall, telling everyone it was time for Mr and Mrs Ford’s first dance as husband and wife. Gwen made a beeline for Grey Waistcoat Guy and I took it as my cue to slope off. It was never easy being single at a wedding; having chronically bad luck with men just made it worse.
As I made for the exit, Max grabbed my hand.
‘Oh no you don’t Munchkin. I seem to remember when we were at your mum’s last wedding, you promised me a dance at the next one. This is the next one, so I’m holding you to it.’
‘Max, you know I can’t dance. Why don’t you go and dance with one of the bridesmaids or something?’
He smiled. ‘You are one of the bridesmaids.’
A look into his deep brown eyes and I knew I couldn’t say no. Reluctantly, I let him lead me onto the dance floor as Make You Feel My Love by Adele began to play. He put his hands on my waist, I wrapped my arms round his neck and we gently swayed to the music. As Adele said she would hold someone for a million years, I stepped on Max’s foot.
‘Sorry, I’m like a bloody elephant on the dance floor!’ I dropped my gaze down to my clumsy feet as I felt my cheeks flush furiously.
‘You’re doing great! I can’t feel my toes but I’m still having a good time.’
I looked up and saw a warm smile sweep across his face.
‘Listen,’ he continued. ‘I saw your face when Gwen started going on about your love life. She means well, you know, she just wants you to be happy.’
I nodded and let out a deep breath. ‘I am happy though. I’ve got great mates, a cool flat and if I’m lucky, I’ll land my dream job tomorrow.’
‘Ah so tomorrow’s the big day, is it?’
‘Sure is. I’ve got my mood-board ready and prepared my pitch; all I need to do now is not vomit while I’m delivering it!’
Max took my hand, twirled me outwards then brought me back into him.
‘I know public speaking isn’t your favourite thing in the world Ava, but you’ll be fine. In fact, no – you’ll bloody ace it because that’s what you do.’
‘Cheers. Fancy meeting me and Gwen at The Dog and Duck tomorrow? You’ll either be helping me celebrate or drown my sorrows.’
He pretended to think for a minute then nodded. ‘How can I say no to that? Oh, do you mind if I bring Amira?’
My jaw clenched tightly. I wanted to say yes, as a matter of fact I do mind if you bring her. She might be a stunningly beautiful lingerie model, but she has the personality of a cabbage and is a right nasty bitch at times. I had no idea how she’d managed to capture my best friend’s heart three months ago: I suspected witchcraft of some kind.
However, I said ‘Why not? The more the merrier!’
Max grinned broadly and embraced me as the song ended. ‘You’re a star, Munchkin!’
Just then, a voice from the front of the room burst through the temporary silence.
‘Well, well, well, isn’t this cosy?’
I turned my head and saw that Amira had just glided into the reception hall, clad in a gold silk gown that accentuated her natural curves. Her long dark hair fell around her shoulders and her caramel skin looked fresh and dewy.
Max dropped me like a hot potato and went over to her, like she was drawing him in with some kind of magnetic field.
‘You look amazing…’ The rest of what he said was lost as she pulled him close for a passionate kiss.
I took this as my cue to leave and went off in search of three things: Gwen, vodka and a way out of the reception.
By the end of the night, I’d found two out of three – which, as Meat Loaf said, ain’t bad. I’d located Gwen after she’d scurried out of the cloakroom with Grey Waistcoat Guy, and the nice guy at the bar had kept me supplied with vodka and lemonades. Yet as I sat on the couch while my best friend snogged the face off Grey Waistcoat Guy, I felt that something was definitely missing. There was an ache somewhere deep inside me and I wasn’t sure how to heal it. I was asked to dance by no less than five men, including Max when Amira went to powder her nose, but I turned them all down.
None of them were him and he was all I wanted, all I’d ever want.
Sadly, he remained frustratingly out of reach.
Chapter 2 (#ulink_7ff0be3f-ed93-53c8-989b-c2e0806832d5)
The day my life changed forever didn’t start in the way I expected.
There was no fanfare heralding the new chapter of my life that was about to begin or a gospel choir belting out Oh Happy Day at the top of their lungs. There wasn’t even a heavenly voiceover appearing out of the blue to say ‘Ava Clements, this is the day you’ve been waiting for. Here’s where your adventure finally kicks off.’
Instead, it started with the clatter of a letterbox.
Completely unaware of the events about to unfold, I picked up the three white envelopes sitting on my flower-shaped doormat and took them through to the kitchen. I flicked through each one in turn: gas bill, phone bill and…
Hello, what’s this?
A handwritten envelope addressed to me.
That was strange; I didn’t get mail from anybody except my broadband provider or companies who wanted to offer me a credit card.
Unless…
No, no, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t know where to find me now and it had been such a long time.
A shiver of tantalising familiarity worked its way down my spine, but I pushed the burgeoning thoughts to the back of my mind. My heart rate quickened as I prepared to open it.
‘I’ve got news!’
Gwen’s voice cut across my thoughts and broke my concentration. I stuffed the envelope in my bag, resolving to open it later.
‘Let me guess; you’ve finally received your Hogwarts letter,’ I replied.
‘Nope, that’s still not turned up,’ she replied with a wistful sigh. ‘I reckon it got lost in the post or something. Anyway, do you want to hear my news?’
I nodded and turned my attentions back to the mysterious letter in my bag. The thoughts gathering in my head were completely ludicrous, I knew, but all the same…
She eyed me suspiciously. ‘You’re hiding something.’
I made a big show of scoffing and spluttering, hoping to sell my fake reaction of shock to her. Luckily, it seemed to work because she changed the subject almost right away.
‘I got you a date.’
In an instant, I felt all the colour drain from my face.
Shit, shit, shit.
‘Gwen, we talked about this after what happened last time…’
‘Look, I know Gary wasn’t exactly Prince Charming but–’
I let out a loud snort. ‘I think you’re forgetting just how bad he was! Not only did he whistle every time he said a word with s in it, he spent most of the evening looking at my breasts and asking what sort of things I liked to do in bed!’
Gwen’s cheeks pinked up. ‘Not my finest hour, I must admit, but this could be my chance to make it up to you. Trust me on this, Greg’s a complete hottie and he’s a sweet guy as well. I met him at an industry party and every woman’s eyes were on him. Not surprising really, considering he’s a male model. Will you go out with him? If you hate him, I promise you never have to do anything for me ever again.’
She stuck her bottom lip out and widened her eyes, like a child who wanted their mum to buy them the biggest toy in the shop. I felt my defences weakening. Surely one more date wouldn’t be so bad?
‘All right then, but if he’s a complete twonk, misogynist, emotionally stunted or a creep then your Cilla Black days are over!’
Gwen clapped her hands gleefully and jumped up and down on the spot. ‘This is why you’re my best friend! I’ll set something up for today if that’s cool?’
I swallowed down the doubts and reservations and gave a weary nod.
She skipped off in the direction of her bedroom, then stopped and turned to look at me. ‘By the way, you look really smart today.’ Slowly, drip by drip, she realised. ‘Oh that’s right, today’s the big day isn’t it?’
A broad smile swept across my face.
‘It certainly is!’ I struck a catwalk pose and pouted. ‘Do I look like Sleek Magazine’s Next Top Dating Columnist?’
Saying the words out loud made my stomach do somersaults. I’d grown to love running the dating column over the last three months and had loads of ideas to make it my own. More than anything I wanted to run it permanently and make it a real prominent feature of the magazine. All I needed was a chance. The only thing standing in my way was Maddie McQueen, my arch-enemy since university and general poisonous bitch. My heart rate soared and goose bumps rose on my arms. I felt excited and utterly terrified in equal measure.
‘Good luck babe, you’ll smash it.’ Gwen gave me a hug and I left before she could offer me some charred remains calling itself toast.
The letter was still burning a hole at the bottom of my bag when I got to work. I was ten minutes late thanks to some road works and an old dear who couldn’t use a zebra crossing.
After sprinting up the steps like a woman possessed and digging out my mood-board, I finally relaxed. My shoulders slumped into the back of my chair and I let my head tilt back. There was so much riding on today; it all came down to a single pitch that could go one of two ways. If it was a complete disaster, then I’d lose my dream job and be promptly punted to the horoscope section.
The scent of coffee wafted around me. That could only mean one thing: Fran was in the building. I opened my eyes and there she was. Her tall, lithe frame towered above me and she was carrying two paper cups of steaming hot coffee.
‘Thought you could use this,’ she said.
Originally from London, Fran’s voice had a sultry raspy quality that I could only dream of imitating. Whenever I tried, I ended up sounding like I had a sore throat.
‘This is why I love you.’ I sat up and took a cup, throwing her a grateful smile.
‘So today’s D Day, is it? Your big pitch with Miranda and Paddy.’
My blood froze at the mention of Miranda’s name. She was Sleek magazine’s answer to Jaws.
‘Yep, here’s my mood-board.’ I lifted it up and passed it to Fran for her appraisal. ‘Oh, not only that; I’ve got a bloody blind date this afternoon!’
‘And just what is that?’
My shoulders slumped at the sound of the voice behind me. I recognised it instantly: Maddie bloody McQueen.
‘It’s a cheese sandwich, Maddie,’ I said, spinning my chair around to face her.
She narrowed her little eyes at me, making herself look even more pinched and gaunt than she usually did.
‘Very funny. If that’s what you’re presenting to Miranda and Paddy, then I’m even more confident with my pitch. I delivered it to them a few minutes ago and let’s just say they were pretty impressed. They were going to hear yours first but you had timing issues, didn’t you?’
My stomach did a belly flop to my shoes. Everyone knew Maddie had the gift of the gab and I could imagine her blowing our bosses away with a killer pitch.
‘You can still try if you want to Ava, it’ll just be pointless. Ciao for now.’ She breezed off back to her desk and threw a smug little smirk over her shoulder to me.
I looked down at my mood-board and heaved a sad sigh.
‘Don’t let her get to you,’ Fran advised. ‘You’ve worked so hard on this pitch, you’re gonna ace it. And what’s this I hear about a blind date?! Spill, Clements.’
‘It’s this guy Gwen met at one of her fashion parties; his name’s Greg and he’s a male model. According to Gwen, he’s a hottie and a sweet guy rolled into one; after her last attempt at setting me up, I’m a bit sceptical to say the least!’
‘That guy who made the whistling noise? I didn’t like the sound of him at all. Look, this guy might look like Ashton Kutcher during his hot phase; you won’t know unless you go. Just think, today could be the day you land your dream job and the love of your life,’ Fran pointed out.
I wanted to believe her – really I did – but when one editor made Voldemort look kind-hearted and the other was about as fierce as Winnie the Pooh, the odds were pretty stacked against me. As for my blind date, Gwen’s taste in men was dubious at best, so this Greg guy wasn’t likely to be my soulmate.
The familiar tug of desire to rip the letter open and devour its contents resurfaced again but I batted it away. I wasn’t quite ready for the storm of emotions reading it would unleash.
It wasn’t long before the witching hour came. At midday, Miranda came oozing out of her office and approached my desk.
‘Ava, could you come with me please?’
I gulped and grabbed my mood-board. I flashed a terrified expression to Fran, who just made a “rock-on” sign with her fingers and turned back to her computer.
That was it. I was on my own. I followed Miranda to her office like an innocent fly wandering into a spider’s lair. The door shut with a finality I wasn’t altogether comfortable with.
Miranda took a seat in her large black executive chair. She crossed one leg over the other and her lips curved into a sly smirk. To her right sat Paddy, who looked typically clueless and unaware of the undertones behind his colleague’s supposedly sweet smile.
‘Hello there Maria, I didn’t know you were applying for this!’ he said in his jovial Scottish lilt.
‘I-It’s Ava, Paddy…’
‘So, Ava,’ Miranda said as she made a little pyramid with her fingers and rested her chin on in. ‘why don’t you take us through your lovely mood-board?’
My heart began to pound in my ears and my breath became short. I held my board in front of my chest so they could see it, my hands trembling terribly. The slick, polished speech I’d prepared had vanished from my mind. Shit, shit, shit. Why did this have to happen now?
‘We’re waiting.’ Miranda’s voice was terse and she looked at me with a malicious glee, as though she enjoyed watching me fail.
‘Oh y-yeah, sorry…’
I caught sight of Paddy’s shoulders slouching and his gaze travelling to the far corner of the room. Come on Ava, pull it together.
‘I-I…um…I-I…’
