The Wedding Date Read Free

there, open-mouthed. I don’t think she knows where the kettle is either.
    ‘Maybe you could bring me a biscuit too? Sugar is good for shock.’ Yes, I am milking this scraped knee for everything it’s worth. It isn’t every day I’m treated with kindness in the office.
    ‘Good idea.’ Adam looks at me, his lips twitching. He’s the only decent one in the office. He doesn’t have any authority, which is a shame, but it’s nice having somebody on my side.
    ‘I think a Fudge Sundae would be best,’ I say. They’re my favourite of the Brinkley’s brand and as rare as hen’s teeth in the Brinkley’s office. Neville is loath to give out freebies – we’re only given a bag of seconds at Christmas.
    ‘Dad isn’t going to be happy.’ Katey-Louise is calculating whether to do my bidding; to give in and serve me would be humiliating, but the pleasure of telling her dad that I’ve been wolfing the stock is tempting. She decides landing me in it is the better option and slinks away in search of the kettle and biscuits.
    ‘Where is Neville?’ The office is oddly empty, with only the four of us present (although Jasper may as well not be here). ‘And Denise?’
    ‘Neville’s gone to that brand-building conference, though I think it’s just an excuse for a jolly.’ Adam lifts a flap of my tights and I hiss again. ‘Sorry. I think I’m going to have to cut away a bit of your tights. You don’t mind, do you?’ I shake my head. They’re ruined anyway. ‘Denise is over at the development kitchen. They’re almost ready with the new line.’
    Which means Denise is stuffing herself with delicious new biscuits.
    ‘Are you ready?’ Adam has a small pair of scissors hovering over my tights. I nod, thankful I shaved my legs before going to the pub last night.

Chapter 3
    Francesca Holden (soon-to-be Radcliffe)
    Text Message:
    Francesca: Hello, darling! It’s been soooooo long since I saw you! Let’s meet up soon!
    Delilah: I’m free at the weekend
    Francesca: This weekend is no good for me – Jeremy is whisking me away to Venice!
    Delilah: The weekend after?
    Francesca: Also difficult! I have a client meeting on the Saturday and a christening on the Sunday. Sorry!
    Delilah: No problem. Let me know when you’re free and we’ll meet up
    Francesca: I’ll have a good look through my diary and let you know!
    You’d think falling bum-over-boob onto the pavement would be the low point of my day, but you’d be wrong. There is far worse to come and this Monday will forever be known as The Worst Monday Ever. At least to me.
    With my cut knee now clean and covered in a plaster, I’ve spent the morning working my way through my in-tray, which is as boring as it sounds and isn’t helped by my raging hangover. With my thumping head and throbbing knee, my body is now a one-man-band of drumming.
    ‘The salted caramel shortbread is going to be a hit,’ Denise announces as she deigns to join us shortly before lunch. It must be a hard life for the woman, being paid to stuff herself with biscuits. ‘Has Neville called while I’ve been out of the office?’
    ‘How would she know?’ Katey-Louise asks as Denise directs the question at me. ‘She’s only just got in herself.’
    Denise arches an eyebrow at me. There’s a tiny shortbread crumb stuck to the corner.
    ‘She’s exaggerating,’ I tell the crumb, unable to tear my eyes away from it. ‘I was only a tiny bit late and I have a valid excuse.’ Denise and the crumb wait for my explanation. ‘I had an accident.’ I swivel in my chair and stick out my leg to showcase my plaster.
    ‘She was mugged,’ Adam says.
    ‘Mugged?’ Denise had been observing my injured knee with disdain but she sits up straighter now. The eyebrow crumb plops off onto the carpet. ‘Have you phoned the police?’
    Whoa, hold on there, missy. I’ve quite enjoyed the attention my busted knee has garnered but involving the police is going a bit too far. What if they check the local