Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,20

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