Katy Carter Wants a Hero Read Free

favours.’
    ‘Boring,’ sighs Ollie. ‘So what do you want?’
    ‘It’s more a question of who. Have you seen Vile Nina lately?’
    Ol wags a finger at me. ‘I thought we’d agreed not to call her that. Nina’s all right when you get to know her.’
    I think I can be forgiven for being sceptical here. Out of all Ollie’s girlfriends, Nina with her Sabatier tongue has to be one of the worst. They’ve all been totally vile but she’s the top of the vile pile. Still, it won’t help my cause if I antagonise him.
    ‘Sorry, of course she is. Anyway, are you seeing her at the moment?’
    Ollie looks shifty. ‘Sort of.’
    He’s shagging her then.
    Men.
    Nina with her blonde hair and Jordanesque cleavage probably is attractive if you like that kind of thing, which unfortunately most men seem to. Ol was smitten for months. At first they’d been like Siamese twins joined at the tongue, but when Ollie tried to pick up his social life, Nina tightened her grasp. I have strong suspicions that he wasn’t even allowed to go to the loo alone, that’s how possessive and paranoid she is, and poor old Ollie could do so much better. Still, I’ve kept my feelings to myself. It never does to diss your friend’s partner, does it?
    Ol’s honeycomb-hued eyes narrow suspiciously. ‘What’s all this sudden interest in Nina for, anyway? You can’t stand her.’
    OK. So maybe I haven’t done such a great job of pretending to like her. That doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate her talents. Like cooking, for example.
    ‘Doesn’t she run a catering company?’
    ‘Yep. Domestic Divas.’
    ‘Are they expensive to hire?’
    He shrugs. ‘About four hundred quid or so for a night. Why? Are you interested?’
    Bollocks. It may as well be four trillion billion quid, that’s how skint I am right now. James has just borrowed what meagre funds were left in my account to ease another of his cash-flow problems, and my Flexible Friend has fallen out with me, so it looks like hiring a caterer is out.
    I’m stuffed.
    ‘What is it?’ Ol asks.
    With a heavy sigh I tell him all about the dinner party, about how James’s promotion totally depends on impressing his boss and about how terrified I am of cocking up. Again.
    ‘You know I’m useless in the kitchen,’ I wail. ‘I’m going to ruin everything. James is desperate for promotion. He says we really need the money and I can’t let him down. Not after the last time.’
    ‘Ah yes,’ says Ollie. ‘The famous getting plastered at Henley Regatta and passing out in the strawberries.’
    ‘Yes, yes! OK!’ Why is it that my friends always remember my least glorious moments? Why can’t they hold on to all the fabulous things I do, like… like…
    Well, I’m sure there are lots. There’s far too many to recall, that’s the problem. But getting bladdered in front of James’s boss at Henley didn’t exactly put me in the good books.
    ‘Hasn’t Nina taught you to cook?’ I say slowly, as though the thought has just occurred. ‘I’m sure I remember something about you being trained up to help.’
    ‘She had me marinating, sautéing and basting until I was on my knees.’ He takes a swig of Guinness. ‘It was nothing like
9½ Weeks
and I really missed Fray Bentos.’ Then he looks at me and groans. ‘Oh no you don’t, Miss Carter! I can see where you’re going with this.’
    I fix him with my most desperate and hopefully winning gaze. ‘Ollie, you could save my life here if you helped me cook for this flipping dinner party. I’ll never manage it alone. You know how useless I am.’
    ‘Yep,’ says Ollie. ‘You’d burn water.’
    ‘James’s boss will be expecting something amazing. Come on, Ol, I’ll be your best friend for ever. I’ll do all your marking. Walk Sasha. Take your cover lessons. What do you think?’
    ‘I think I need another drink.’ Ollie looks longingly towards the bar. ‘You’re asking me to give up precious Saturday drinking time to cook for a