The Accidental Proposal Read Free

in front of me. And do you have to bring sex into everything?’
    ‘If I can, yes.’
    ‘Well, just don’t tell anyone, okay?’
    Dan shrugs. ‘Discreet is my middle name.’
    ‘Only if ‘in’ is your first.’
    ‘Edward, I’m offended. Give me an example of a time I’ve dropped you in it?’
    I stroke my chin thoughtfully. ‘Well . . .’
    ‘You see, you can’t come up with any.’
    ‘I’m having more of a problem choosing just the one.’
    Dan laughs, then drains the rest of his beer and slams his bottle noisily down on the bar. ‘Anyway, however it happened, this calls for champagne.’
    ‘There’s no need for . . .’
    ‘Of course there is. It’s not every day that your best friend gets engaged, is it?’
    ‘I suppose not,’ I say, then sit there, waiting for Dan to order a bottle, but instead, he starts patting his jacket pockets like a parachutist desperately trying to locate his rip-cord.
    As his expression changes to one of helplessness, I sigh. In the twelve or so years I’ve known him, and despite the fact that his last TV job paid around five times my annual salary, I could probably count the number of times he’s bought me a drink on the fingers of one hand – even if I’d lost most of those fingers to frostbite. It’s not that he’s stingy; more that Dan changes his outfit so often before leaving the house – even when he’s just coming for a drink with me – that his wallet doesn’t always manage to accompany him.
    I wave towards the other end of the bar in an attempt to attract the attention of Wendy, the Admiral Jim’s pretty in a dark-haired boyish-figured Meg-Ryan-in- You’ve-Got-Mail kind of way manager. She’s just come back to work after having a baby with her boyfriend, Andy, and is evidently suffering from the late nights and early mornings, as she looks as though she’s doing her best not to nod off.
    ‘Edward,’ she says, ignoring Dan as usual as she walks over to where we’re sitting. Wendy’s not Dan’s biggest fan, although that’s due to his rather ungentlemanly attitude towards the women he dates rather than the quality of his television work. ‘What can I get you?’
    ‘A bottle of cham—’
    ‘Your finest champagne, please,’ interrupts Dan, before jabbing a thumb in my direction. ‘Edward’s buying.’
    Wendy raises both eyebrows. ‘I’ll just dust one off,’ she says, reaching into the fridge behind her and producing a bottle of Moët, then heading off to retrieve a couple of flutes from the shelf at the other end of the bar. ‘What are you celebrating? Dan finally reaching puberty?’
    ‘No, Wendy,’ sighs Dan, sliding his empty beer bottle along the bar towards her like a cowboy in a saloon. ‘We just thought it’d make a nice change from this piss-flavoured stuff you sell branded as lager.’
    ‘Yes, well, there’s a reason yours tastes like that,’ says Wendy, flicking her eyes towards the ladies.
    ‘I’ve just got engaged,’ I say quickly, trying to defuse the situation.
    ‘To Sam,’ adds Dan, a little unnecessarily.
    Wendy rolls her eyes at him, then breaks into a grin. ‘Congratulations, Edward,’ she says, leaning over the bar to give me a hug. ‘That’s a surprise.’
    ‘Not as much of a surprise as it was for Edward,’ whispers Dan.
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Nothing, Wendy,’ I say, a little embarrassed. ‘And thanks.’
    ‘You’re welcome,’ she says, peeling the foil off the top of the champagne bottle. ‘So have you set a date?’
    ‘No. Well, not yet. I mean, it all happened so quickly.’
    ‘Funny,’ says Wendy. ‘That’s exactly what my flatmate said after she slept with Dan.’
    ‘Ha, ha, ha,’ says Dan, eyeing her warily. ‘Not.’
    I kick him lightly on the shin. ‘Join us for a glass?’
    ‘I can’t,’ she says, looking at the bottle longingly as she levers the cork out with her thumbs. ‘I’m breast feeding.’
    ‘Really?’ Dan stares pointedly at Wendy’s less-than-bountiful cleavage,