Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,4

it would be easy to find a date for their wedding. I’ll be honest; it’s never usually hard for me to find female companionship. I simply flash my smile, temporarily suppress my dorky side that most girls don’t like, and—Bob’s your uncle—I’m balls deep in dates. But this time, it’s slim pickings.

With time running out, I even resorted to going back through my little black book (also known as my WhatsApp conversations and text message threads) to see if there was a good option among my recent hump and dumps, but there’s no one on there I’d be interested in taking with me and having the date immortalised with a family photo. Things got so dire after my mum threatened to get involved and find me someone that, last week, I decided to venture into my Facebook Messenger’s Other folder, hoping to find an eligible bachelorette. Unfortunately, there was nothing in there either—well, apart from unsolicited dick pics and messages from long-lost Nigerian royal relatives who wanted to send me some money. At this rate, if I don’t ask someone quickly, I’ll be eating my plus-one’s food, slow-dancing on my own, and crying myself into a gin coma by midnight.

Maybe I’ll have one last look on Tinder later when I get home, see if anyone’s worth a swipe. If there’s no one, I’ll likely admit defeat and go alone, let Peggy paw me all night and introduce me as her toy boy plaything, like she did at the last family party we went to. I shudder at the thought.

“Look, I’ll sort it, all right? I’ll have a date for the wedding next weekend. Stop stressing about it. Everything will be fine, I promise.” I reach up and use one finger to draw a cross across my heart.

Maybe I’ll have to resort to paying someone. What sort of money would a high-class escort charge for a long weekend? Probably more than I can afford.

Jared rolls his eyes and sighs in exasperation. He hates that I live on the edge and roll through life on a breeze. It makes him nervous and anxious. He’s Mr Responsible and Organised. We’re total opposites.

I slap my thighs to get everyone’s attention. “Right. Anyway, come on. If you’re ready now, let’s leave the girls to it. You know I get awkward when I’m surrounded by couples. I hate being the third wheel. Let’s go get this stag party started and get absolutely shitfaced!”

I stand and walk to the door, pulling out my phone and pretending to be engrossed in the screen while the guys spend an exorbitant amount of time saying goodbye to their significant others before they head off to meet the rest of their girl pack for their night out too.

I’m still wearing Jared’s suit. He hasn’t noticed, or if he has, he hasn’t mentioned it. As always.

two

Lucie

What a sad day it is when you realise your whole life can fit into one suitcase and two boxes.

I smile awkwardly at my parents as they heft my belongings through my front door. “Oh, you guys didn’t have to bring that over.” Translation: I wish you’d burned all of this.

My mother smiles sympathetically and waves a hand before pulling me into a hug; it’s a bone crusher, complete with a back pat and rhythmic rocking motion. “Luciella, it’s been too long. Aww, my baby!” Her thick Italian accent feels like a warm blanket wrapping itself around my heart.

She cups my cheeks, smooshing my lips together uncomfortably, and then proceeds to tell me in fast-paced Italian how much she loves me and has missed me. You’d think it’s been weeks since I saw her, but nope, four days—that’s all. She’s just a drama queen.

“Mamma, it’s so lovely to see you. You should have called and let me know you were coming.” I try for nonchalance, but really, a little bit of notice never hurt anyone. Plus, maybe then I’d have changed out of my pyjamas and put on a bra!

I force a smile and look over at my dad, who’s wiping his forehead with a handkerchief after having lugged the boxes up three flights of stairs to the flat I now share with my best friend. Well, share or sublet a room Aubrey used to use as an office—same thing.

“Ciao, Papà.”

He smiles, his dark eyes twinkling. “Hello, my bambina.”

My mum cups my cheek and looks in my eyes. “Luciella, why is Lucas bringing your belongings to our house? Why didn’t you arrange to meet up with him,