I can’t contain my groan. “I’m not ready to start dating people. I’m not sleeping with him.” I say it sternly, but my mind is already running rampant with thoughts of the feel of his skin under my fingertips, his mouth on my body. I haven’t had sex for a while, and it’s not like I’m getting a lot of offers for naked time. Plus, he is damn hot.
“Who said anything about dating him? Come on, are you honestly telling me you don’t fancy him? Of course you do!” she states knowingly.
I chew on my lip and scrunch my nose. She’s right; of course I do. He’s melt-your-underwear hot, especially when he smiles.
Aubrey continues, “Look, you’ve been frustrated. This is the twenty-first century, and you’re a modern woman. Go get it, girl. Sex is just sex, if you want it to be. No need to be ashamed for wanting to be satisfied. We all have needs. You can sleep with him with no regrets or strings. I’m not saying you have to marry the guy. All I’m saying is, go with an open mind. Don’t beaver-dam yourself before you even board the plane.”
I chuckle and take a sip of my drink.
“And don’t let memories of that idiot Lucas beaver-dam you either.”
I chew on my lip. I shouldn’t have told her about his offer. I should have just sent my rejection text to Theo and pretended it’d never happened. Now that I’ve told her, she’ll drone on and on about it until I change my mind and agree to go. Especially if she thinks it’ll get me laid. She’s already tried persuading me that to get over Lucas, I need to get under someone else. So far, I’ve resisted her attempts at matchmaking me with random people she knows (including her dentist and the guy who delivers our pizza), but looking at her now, I know she won’t let this one go. She’ll be following me around like my own personal Just Do It Shia LaBeouf GIF cheerleader until I cave.
“Lucie, you have to go! You deserve a free holiday with a hot guy. You’re going!”
I groan in defeat and close my eyes.
“You’re going!” she repeats sternly.
“Yes, Mum,” I joke, sighing in exasperation. But I’m only saying that to shut her up.
I have no intention of changing my mind. It’s too absurd. Yes, the idea of a holiday sounds great, and spending time with a hot, hilarious guy is appealing, but … I’m not brave enough to be that impulsive anymore. Besides, I already have a date lined up this weekend with Netflix and one of my mother’s tiramisus. I’ll simply text Theo a rejection later and then tell Aubrey I couldn’t get time off work at short notice. That’s a perfectly reasonable and believable excuse.
The rest of lunch is her raving on and on about Theo and how jealous she is. She tells me he’s an illustrator. I must admit, I’m more than a little intrigued about him now, and I can’t wait to get back to the office and look him up to see what books he’s worked on and if he’s talented. I tell her about our bargain—that in return for me going to the wedding, he’ll come to my dad’s party and let me pretend we’re a couple to make Lucas jealous. No surprises, Aubrey loves the idea.
I feel bad for lying to her, but it must be done.
By the time lunch is finished and we’re heading back to our building, arm in arm, I feel a little deflated. She’s so upbeat and positive about it, but I’m back to wallowing in self-pity about losing my fiancé to a prettier, fitter, younger version of me. Putting on a brave face is exhausting.
As we flash our badges to get through the barrier at reception, the lady sitting there gives me a wide smile and holds up one finger. “Oh, wait, you’re Lucie, aren’t you? Lucie Gordio?”
“I am.” I nod and stop by her desk, thinking she must have some more galley copies or a delivery or contract for me to sign for.
“Perfect timing. I was about to call upstairs to you!”
“Oh, really?”
She grins and reaches under her desk, pulling out a box of six Krispy Kreme doughnuts, heavy on the biscotti variety. “Someone left these for you.” She makes an excited squealing noise and grins, eyes flitting from me to Aubrey.
I take the box, and my heart leaps into my throat. I don’t even need to read the note that’s written in black Sharpie on the corner of the box to know these are from Theo. It’s too random and too much of a coincidence to be anyone else sending me doughnuts.
“Ooh, yummy! Share!” Aubrey chirps, grinning down at them, not realising the significance of them.
“They’re from Theo.” I take a deep breath and read his message aloud, “Don’t ever let it be said that I didn’t buy you dinner.” It’s so cute that I almost do a little internal swoon as I chew on the inside of my cheek.
Aubrey excitedly claps her hands, and the receptionist gives a dreamy sigh.
And that thoughtful inside joke is all it takes to change my mind again. I open a text, and instead of letting him down … I send him:
Me: Thanks for the calories! They’ll all be eaten within three hours.
And I tack on my date of birth at the end.
Screw it, I have nothing to lose. And I’m now strangely excited about my little impromptu weekend getaway. Aubrey is right; I do deserve it.
I head off upstairs to go book the time off.
Later that night, just as Aubrey and I are sitting in front of the TV, eating my mum’s reheated cannelloni, Theo texts me with our flight times and numbers and the itinerary for the wedding weekend.
I stare down at my phone in confusion for a minute and then text him back.
Me: Is that a joke for Friday night?
Theo: Nope, deadly serious.
“Oh crap, what have I got myself into?” I groan.
six
Theo
London Stansted Airport around lunchtime on Thursday is packed with eager, happy passengers ready to jet off on their holidays. I tug my carry-on suitcase closer to me as a group of young lads come in and almost trip over it, as they’re not paying the slightest bit of attention to their surroundings. They’re about eighteen, and they likely have just been dropped off by their mums for their first ever lads’ shagfest. Probably headed to Ibiza, if the looks of them is anything to go by. They’re jeering and skipping around like excitable puppies with no clue as to what they should be doing. I smile to myself and wish I were going with them. A nice, carefree holiday where I wouldn’t have to watch the girl I was semi in love with marry my kin. What I wouldn’t give for that instead of what I’m about to do this weekend.
I chew on my thumbnail again as nerves ball up inside me. I had to switch around my plans for today after Lucie agreed to come with me. I was supposed to be flying up with my parents and sister today but cancelled my flight and rebooked one with Lucie instead from an airport closer to where she lives for convenience—hers, not mine. Now, I’m wondering if I made a mistake. We agreed to meet here five minutes ago, but there’s no sign of her. Usually, I’m the one late, but as my train got me here mid-morning today, I’ve already had a couple of hours to stand around and worry myself sick that she won’t turn up.
We’ve not had much contact, just a quick message or two on the Monday that we met, merely communication about flight times and numbers, and then we had a couple of short check-in messages too—the last of which was yesterday evening when I asked her if she was done packing. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since then.