Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating Page 0,20
by a leash? Was there something that she knew? “I really don’t think I have any cause for concern,” she snapped defensively.
“I’m sure you’re all the woman John needs,” Sheryl gushed unconvincingly.
“Right, well, if that’s it . . . Because I’m really rather busy.”
“Yes, I think that about wraps things up,” Sheryl replied lightly. “So I’ll keep an eye out for your little check.”
“I’ll attend to it immediately. Right, well, goodb—”
“. . . Just one more thing, Audrey,” Sheryl interrupted slowly. “You haven’t let me know which one of your girls you’ll be bringing. You do have that complimentary ticket, you know, for a ‘matchmaker in the making.’”
“Oh, golly. I’d forgotten.”
“You’d forgotten that too? I need names by close of play. Just pop me over an email and I’ll make sure Sienna sends her an invitation. Such a treasure, Sienna! I don’t know how I ever got by without a PA. You still don’t have one, do you? Anyway, must dash, Aud. Ciao.”
Audrey put down the phone and took several deep breaths. She could feel her neck burning. Sheryl was a nasty black cloud in the perfect blue sky of the Dating Practitioners’ Society ball. She was bad enough on the phone, but even worse in the flesh. And what a lot of flesh. Not that Sheryl was large—far from it. It was just that she never wore enough clothing. Her bosom was always on display, thrust into a too-small top that was invariably hothouse pink. And she’d teeter around on stilettos—sometimes without tights! And she was a terror around men. Always tossing her bottle-blond hair at them, or leaning close to whisper some crude indiscretion. And what was all that stuff about John? Was he the latest man Sheryl wanted to get her talons into? Her John? But John was far too refined to go for a trollop like Sheryl. Wasn’t he? Audrey felt her indigestion burn again.
After ten minutes of strenuous paper-shuffling Audrey felt calmer. Of course John wouldn’t go for a strumpet like Sheryl. She could flirt all she liked, but John would stick by her side. She knew she could rely on him, despite their current—temporary—status. She touched her neck. It was feeling cooler already.
All that remained was for her to decide who to take to the ball as her “matchmaker in the making.” It was a Dating Practitioners’ Society tradition that each of the major dating agencies brought along a young, aspiring matchmaker. It was a way of showing them the big league of matchmakers, and inspiring them to work their way up through the ranks. A silly tradition really. She’d much prefer an evening away from her girls and their inanities. But still, traditions were there for upholding. Audrey peered at her staff and wondered who to take.
Her eye fell on Bianca. If she had to pick a favorite it would be her. She was the kind of girl who threw on a pashmina and looked just right. She wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, but she was from a good family, had gone to an excellent boarding school, and always sat neatly with her knees together.
She turned to Cassandra. Cassandra was well enough bred and a keen horsewoman, but had a tendency toward bandy-leggedness. A bit too Zara Phillips and not enough Middleton sister. But all in all, not too bad a sort.
Then there was Hilary. Hilary had been her very first member of staff and knew almost as much about Table For Two as she did. She’d been to the ball several times, pre-children, when she still had a waist. But she was eight months gone now, and an assault on the eyes. She couldn’t possibly take her.
And finally there was Alice, who was staring out of the window in her customary dreamy manner. Alice had been at Table For Two for donkeys’ years and still hadn’t been to the ball. Bianca and Cassandra had both been—Bianca twice—even though they’d worked at Table For Two for far less time. Audrey sighed. It was no use; she knew it would have to be Alice. She just hoped she wouldn’t embarrass her. She was bound to turn up in some sackcloth-and-ashes outfit and stick out like a sore thumb. She could just imagine Sheryl raising her eyebrow. And Barry Chambers was bound to crack a joke. She’s an albatross around my neck, that girl, Audrey thought bitterly.
She opened her office door and summoned her in. Alice jumped in her seat, knocking her papers