Scissors.” I hold out both my hands, one closed fist resting on my palm, and wait.
She pushes her hair back over her shoulder and playfully rolls her eyes. “Fine, just to shut you up.”
She mirrors my hands, and we thump our fists. One, two, and on three, we throw our shapes.
“Ha!” I crow, leaning over and chopping her paper with my scissors before reaching for the box.
Lucie lets out a loud groan. “The biscotti one is mine. That’s my favourite. You can choose from the other two.”
“Deal.” I flip open the box lid and offer her the contents, watching as she takes the caramel-coloured one. “So, keep me distracted then. Tell me about you. You work here? I’ve not seen you around.” And I certainly would have remembered.
She nods. “Yeah, I’ve been here for six weeks now. I’m an intern, working for David Schuh’s department.”
“Really?” Interesting.
David Schuh runs the children’s publishing division; Patricia, my editor, reports to him. No wonder we were both headed to the same floor.
She nods and takes a large bite of her doughnut, her tongue licking across her bottom lip, collecting the biscotti crumbs that have stuck to her lipstick—and now, I’ve lost interest in my own food and my train of thought. Who knew eating doughnuts was sexy?
I swallow and force my mind back on track. “An intern? Aren’t they usually spotty eighteen-year-olds? How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-six,” she replies. “And me being an intern is a long story.”
I grin and wave my hand around at the stationary lift. “We’re not going anywhere, so we’ve definitely got time. You might as well catch me up, Luce.”
She chuckles, and after some more encouragement and cajoling words from me, she rolls her eyes before proceeding to tell me how she has always wanted to work in publishing but how she fell for the wrong guy. She explains how they split up three months ago after he cheated on her, how she basically had to start over and was lucky enough that her friend got her the intern job here, and how she plans on working her arse off to get the junior editor position at the end of her temporary contract.
I watch her talk, a little fascinated by her drive and a lot fascinated by the fact that her fiancé cheated on her. Is the guy blind or just plain dumb? I’ve spent less than thirty minutes in her presence, and I can already see the appeal she has. If I had a girl like her to come home to, I wouldn’t be looking anywhere else for sex.
“So, pretty crappy couple of months for you then,” I surmise.
“God, yeah, it’s sucked. I kinda wish this year were over with already. I woke up on New Year’s Day and honestly thought this was going to be my year. Oh, how wrong I was.” She chuckles darkly. She nods and looks down at the last doughnut in the box. “Want to split it?”
“Yeah, go on then.” I smile gratefully as she tears the raspberry-iced doughnut in two and holds out the larger half to me. “Thanks. So, you sound like you need a holiday.” As I say the words, a plan starts to form in my head.
This girl is cute and fun—and not to mention, easy on the eye. She’s definitely someone I could spend a weekend with without wanting to kill myself. I’d like to get to know her better. Before today, I all but gave up on trying to find a date to the wedding; it was too late now to find someone—or so I thought. Maybe we could help each other out.
“I wish. I can’t afford one.” She sighs dreamily, sucking jam from her thumb.
Screw it. Just ask, Theo. What’s the worst that can happen? “How do you fancy an all-inclusive weekend break in the picturesque surroundings of Scotland?”
One of her eyebrows rises in question, so I continue, really trying to sell it, “My brother is getting married this weekend up at Loch Lomond, and I have a plus-one. There’s a five-star luxury hotel, a spa, woods to walk in, a national park, water sports, glorious weather predicted, free food, and more importantly, free drink …” I smile hopefully. “Thursday to Sunday. Come with me? I’ll even pay for your flight. Everything’s included. In return, you have to attend the wedding with me as my plus-one.”
“This weekend?”
I nod.
Her nose scrunches. “Thursday to Sunday? Who drags out a wedding for four days?”
“My brother and his perfect fiancée.”
“Uh-oh,