Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,18

I longed to reach out and soothe him and relieve his worry. In a weird way, I kind of liked that he was a little scared of being in there. With him looking the way he does—all tall, imposing, and perfect—his vulnerability made me instantly like him and put me at ease because it showed he wasn’t infallible.

David stands and gives my shoulder another pat. “Good to see you’re okay. Take a few minutes’ breather and compose yourself a bit. When you’re done and ready to start, can you head into the stockroom and have a sort-out? We’ve had a delivery of galley copies for our autumn releases that need to be sent to reviewers. And we have a photographer coming in to take pictures of the new Johansson book this afternoon. Would you mind assisting him to ensure we get everything we need for our socials and promotions we have scheduled?”

I nod. “On it.”

As he walks away, I slip my phone into my pocket before finding all the reviewer paperwork I need to help me sort the galley copies of the books and send them out. Heading into the stockroom (more accurately, the glorified cupboard), I close the door behind me and pull out my phone.

I need to speak to Aubrey; she’s going to lose her mind when I tell her what I’ve got myself into this morning. I shoot off a quick text to her, arranging to meet at our favourite café for a late lunch—seeing as Theo ate my lunch in the lift.

Just as I’m about to lock my screen, a Twitter notification catches my eye. I’ve been tagged in a photo. Flicking my eyes around to make sure I’m still alone and not about to be busted for being on social media when I should be working, I open the notification.

It’s from Theo; it’s the selfie he took of us in the lift.

My eyes rake over him. Jeez, he’s gorgeous.

His smile makes my insides clench, and every female part of me wakes up and pays attention. His hair flops over his forehead and makes me want to run my fingers through it and push it back for him. His grin is contagious, and I feel a smile creep onto my lips too.

Forcing myself to stop looking at his photo, I set to work, opening boxes and piling up books, ticking them off the inventory. It’s tedious, monotonous work, but someone has to do it.

Stepping into the busy café at lunchtime, I head straight to the last empty table. I’m starving. My one-and-a-half doughnuts this morning have nowhere near filled the hole inside me, and my stomach has been grumbling for the last hour.

When the waitress comes over, I order two lattes and two club sandwiches, as I know that’s what Aubrey will want too. They’re the best here.

Five minutes later, just as the waitress is setting our order on the table, Aubrey bustles in, flicking her blonde curls out of her face and pulling off her oversize shades. She beams a smile as she struts over and plops into the chair opposite me, her blue eyes already probing me for answers as she picks up her drink.

“So,” she says over the rim of her coffee cup, “you got stuck in the lift with a cute guy? Spill. I want all the details.”

I grin, rolling my eyes.

When I called her and asked her to inform my office of what was happening, the first thing she had asked me was, “Is he cute?”

Classic Aubrey.

It’s no wonder she works downstairs for Hummingbird Ink, the romance imprint of my publishing house; she’s always looking for the next happily ever after, either in real life or fiction. To be fair though, it’s my ultimate goal to work for Hummingbird Ink too. Romance is my thing as well; you can’t beat a good romance novel that tugs at your heartstrings.

“He was very cute.” I take a sip of my latte. “And you will never guess what I went and agreed to.” I shake my head at myself and chuckle.

She sits up straighter, eyeing me hopefully. “Please tell me it’s a date.”

Aubrey is always nagging me about moving on from Lucas and finding someone new.

“Kind of,” I admit, wincing. “He asked me to go to Scotland with him this weekend.”

“What?!” Her voice is so loud, people around us stop talking and openly stare.

“Shh,” I hiss, laughing as I lean in so we can talk more privately. “He has to go to his brother’s