The Chocolate Lovers’ Wedding Read Free

pretty?’
‘No, she’s French. A double bagger. Awful woman.’
A likely story.
His eyes go all gooey and he reaches out to curl a lock of my blonde hair round his finger. ‘Come back,’ he pleads. ‘Come back to me.’
‘Don’t do that.’ I slap his hand away.
Marcus is unperturbed. ‘She doesn’t have your way with the customers, Lucy. She doesn’t have the vision or the passion for Chocolate Heaven. Without you, it’s nothing. You know the business like no one else. You were born for it.’
All of these things are true. There is chocolate flowing in my veins. I wasn’t cut out to be a temporary secretary to a bad-tempered, not very green IT director.
That pulls me up short. Yikes! The finance department! All this banter with Marcus may have slightly sidetracked me.
As the realisation dawns, my phone rings. It’s my Mr Simmonds.
‘Hello.’ I try to sound as if I am in the quiet of the finance department and not in a noisy café on the Embankment.
‘Where exactly are you, Lucy?’ my boss asks somewhat tightly. ‘I have been down to the finance department to get the figures for myself and they say that they haven’t seen hide nor hair of you.’
‘I had to pop out. Urgently. I’ll be back in five minutes,’ I promise. Then I remember that I’m on the wrong side of the river and will have to run. ‘Make that ten.’
‘Make it that you don’t bother to come back at all,’ he hisses. ‘I’ll call the agency and get someone else who’s actually interested in doing this job. You’re fired.’
He hangs up. I’m left staring open-mouthed at the phone. When I look up, I see that Marcus is grinning.

Chapter Three
    We, the members of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club, are sitting in a boring little café just off the Strand. I have a plastic-looking ham sandwich, Nadia is staring forlornly at a limp chicken wrap, Autumn is gingerly dipping a biscotti in a not-quite-hot cappuccino and, horror upon horror, Chantal is eating a salad. I feel faint looking at it.
    ‘Look at us,’ I say. ‘We are the good ladies of the Chocolate Lovers’ Club and there’s not a morsel of chocolate in sight. What’s happening to us? We are failing in our mission to embrace all things chocolatey in our lives.’
    ‘It’s just not the same without Chocolate Heaven,’ Autumn muses sadly.
‘But it’s our raison d’être .’
Nadia shrugs. ‘Lucy has a point.’
I’m on a roll now. ‘What, I ask, is the reason for lettuce?’
Chantal prods at her bowl of shrubbery and grimaces.
‘It is the most pointless foodstuff on the planet,’ I pontificate. ‘Even rabbits don’t really like it.’
‘It isn’t the lettuce that’s the issue, Lucy, is it?’ Chantal points out. ‘You’re just disenchanted with yet another substandard café.’ ‘You’re right,’ I admit, sagging. ‘It’s not Chocolate Heaven.’
‘This is OK,’ Nadia says. We all look around. It is a McCafé. We could be anywhere. Magnolia walls, wooden chairs, grubby vinyl floor. Not a comfy brown velvet sofa in sight. And, more importantly, very little in the way of chocolate goodies on offer. None, in fact. Not even a measly brownie for succour.
They have plain flapjack. What’s the thinking behind that?
To console myself, I look round at my lovely companions. These are my dearest friends. Friendships that were born out of our mutual love of chocolate. We used to meet at Chocolate Heaven, the finest of fine chocolate emporiums, every single day. We laughed, cried, gossiped, ate chocolate. Now we are homeless.
In spite of everything that has happened between us, Marcus, somehow, thought that I could carry on working there as if nothing had happened. Worse, he thought I’d be pleased ! But I couldn’t, not in a million years, work for Marcus. He would have had me in his thrall again and there’s no way that I’d ever want that. It has taken me a long time – longer than I’d care to admit – to be Not in Love with Marcus anymore. And I don’t