‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It’s just… I can only truly thrive when I find someone who shares my world view and my long-term vision of the future.’
‘I…’ I began, and then I stopped. I wasn’t sure what to say and, more importantly, I wasn’t sure what Adam was saying. Was he telling me he wasn’t as confident in our relationship as I was and trying to put that on me? Was he going to dump me on Christmas morning, right after we’d had sex?
If he was, it would surely be a new low in my dating life – possibly in everyone’s dating life, ever. I’d be the world’s most disastrous dater, officially. In years to come, there’d be a blue plaque outside the Ginger Cat, saying that Zoë Meredith, the unluckiest woman in love, had lived there.
I swallowed and waited for him to carry on, still in the warm embrace of his arm. If this was the end, I was going to enjoy every second of happiness with him while I could.
‘I find it hard to conform to society’s norms and expectations,’ Adam went on. ‘Many people who think they know me, don’t really. And of course, because I’ve been single for so long, I’m often thought of as the eternal bachelor. My friends all say I’ll never settle down until I find a woman who’s one hundred per cent perfect for me.’
‘But…’ Then I stopped again. I might as well hear him out.
‘My attitude to sexuality can appear somewhat transactional,’ he said. ‘Casual friends-with-benefits arrangements appeal to me while I flit through life, relishing my independence, wary of putting down emotional or practical roots. And because I have the image of the perfect woman in my head, it’s often hard for a real-life relationship to live up to that.’
I turned my head against his shoulder and looked up at him. His eyes were solemn, but there was the beginnings of a smile turning up the corners of the lips I loved to kiss so much.
Suddenly, I realised what he was up to.
‘Adam! You’ve been reading stuff about Aquarius men, haven’t you?’
He burst out laughing. ‘I wondered how long it would take you to realise.’
‘If your work ever sack you, you could get a job working for Fabian Flatley. And I’ll have you know that Aquarian women can be prone to bouts of fierce temper, so you’d better watch out.’
‘What does your app thing say about today then? Because if it says there’s a picnic hamper hidden behind the bar downstairs, containing what Fortnum & Mason describe as a luxury plant-based feast for two, I’ll be seriously impressed.’
‘What’s in the feast, though? Because you might want to bear in mind that Aquarian women, while unencumbered by the expectations of society, have exacting standards that are entirely their own.’
‘Let me check.’ Adam reached sideways for his phone, careful not to disturb Frazzle or me. ‘Organic Perugian olives. Fair trade dairy-free chocolate ganache selection made from single-sourced Ecuadorian cacao beans. Sourdough bread made with wild Cotswolds yeast. Sustainably produced mushroom pâté. Smoked Catalan almonds from bee-friendly orchards. Half a case of champagne. And three packets of truffle crisps, only I got those from Archie, not Fortnum’s.’
‘Hmm. It’s not sounding too bad so far.’
Frazzle got up from his perch at the end of the bed, stretched all his four legs in turn, then strolled up and nestled in between Adam and me. I thought about the parcels under the Christmas tree that I’d wrapped for Adam, which were from both me and my cat, and hoped he’d like the signed edition of the Dune books I’d got off eBay, the bottle of his favourite shampoo I’d found out the brand of from Tansy, and the framed picture of Freezer I’d asked his last shared cat’s owners to send. I was just as proud of them as he was of what he’d bought me, but there was no way I was hinting at any of it.
‘Anything else?’ I asked.
‘Four packs of Oreos, a box of cat treats and two bottles of extra-hot chilli sauce,’ Adam finished smugly. ‘They were from the corner shop. So what does your Stargazer app make of that?’
‘I haven’t a clue,’ I told him. ‘I deleted it round about when you kissed me out in the garden.’
‘How about Tinder?’ He looked at me again, now definitely smiling.
‘I deleted that, too,’ I said.
If Thank You, Next had you laughing out loud, grinning like a Cheshire cat and loving Zoë’s happy ever after, then don’t miss out on Sophie’s incredible bestseller Sorry Not Sorry. This joyful and hilarious romantic comedy will have you roaring with laughter and craving a delicious margarita.
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Sorry Not Sorry
Is this all there is? I scraped the last dregs of Caramel Chew Chew ice cream out of the bottom of the tub with my finger and licked it. It left a sticky smear on my phone’s screen when I typed into Google, ‘How to find love, sex and happiness.’
Charlotte has always been a good girl. But being good is getting boring…
She’s not just stuck in a rut – she’s buried in it up to her chin. The only company she has in bed is the back catalogue of Netflix and falling in love feels like the stuff of fairy tales. So when she stumbles across a popular podcast, ‘Sorry Not Sorry’, which challenges women to embrace their inner bad girl, she jumps at the chance to shake things up.
Old Charlotte would never ask for a stranger’s number, go on a blind date or buy lacy lingerie… But New Charlotte is waving goodbye to her comfort zone (with a side order of margaritas). And it turns out that good things happen to bad girls…
A fabulously feel-good novel that will make you laugh till you cry and leave you living life to the full, margarita in hand! If you’re a fan of romantic comedies by Sophie Kinsella, Lindsey Kelk or Matt Dunn, and love TV shows like Girls, Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and Jane the Virgin, you won’t be able to put down this hilarious read.
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On the day this book is released into the world, I should have been waking up with the mother of all hangovers, dragging myself into the shower, eating cold pastry with leftover roast pork for breakfast, then carrying my share of at least forty empty prosecco bottles out to the recycling.