Say Hello, Kiss Goodbye - Jacquelyn Middleton Page 0,66

face down on the table. “I wish I told her in a more elegant manner. I basically word-vomited. It wasn’t pretty.”

“Meh, pretty is overrated. You got the job done and made her laugh before her big meeting! I wish someone made me laugh before my presentation,” said Sarah, poking the chickpeas in Jordan’s salad with his fork as she watched him talking outside on his phone. “I was so wound up.”

“Yeah, but you still got the promotion and a new office—with a window. You could grow your orchids on the sill. I’m so proud of you, Saz. So is Dad. I called him before I left Simon’s and he’s been telling all the neighbors.” She laughed.

“It’s times like this he feels so far away,” said Sarah. “I’ll FaceTime him again tomorrow, give him a tour of my new space.” She picked up Leia’s box of raspberry macarons and peeked inside. Only one of the six cookies remained. “So gorgeous! I bet they taste as good as they look. How’d he know about macarons?”

Leia stuffed her hands in her hoodie’s pocket. “I mentioned them once.”

“And he remembered? Tarquin likes you.” Sarah stared at her sister. “And you like him.”

“Of course I like him.” Leia pushed aside her half-eaten sun-dried tomato flatbread. “I wouldn’t sleep with someone I found repulsive.”

“No. It’s more than that. Your cheeks flush when you talk about him.”

Leia flapped a hand at her face. “That’s because it’s warm in here.”

“If you say so.” Sarah gently tipped the box, and the lone macaron rolled into the corner. “So, why haven’t you texted him?”

“I did! Right after the hamper arrived.”

“That’s too little, too late. You’re flying to New York in three days!”

Leia pulled her hair free from her ponytail. “Well, he didn’t text me, either.” She ran her hands through her blonde tresses, smoothing the dent left behind from the coated elastic. “I figured he wasn’t interested in meeting up again.”

“Until he sent you raspberry macarons!” Sarah swooned over the box, handing it back to Leia. “Those are better than a text any day, so romantic and yummy.”

“Don’t get all gooey-eyed, Saz! I don’t want to marry the guy. I’d just like to sleep with him again. Who knows when I’ll have sex that great back in New York.” Leia admired the last macaron.

“Crisis averted!” Jordan plunked his phone on the table and dropped into the chair beside Sarah. The shoulders of his suit were dappled with raindrops.

Sarah covered his hand with hers. “Everything okay?”

“There was a blunder with today’s auction. My boss needed some translating done to seal the deal.” He pushed away his plate and stifled a burp. “Oh, man, I can’t wait to head to yours and get comfy in jeans and a t-shirt.”

“Oh, but not yet?” begged Leia, setting down the macarons. “Saz, don’t get mad. I know you hate surprises, but I bought a cake.”

“Aw, you didn’t! Is it the caterpillar cake from Tesco?” Sarah chair-danced like a sugar-jacked six-year-old celebrating a birthday. “I luvvvve him.”

Caterpillar? Leia snickered, tugging her hair tie over her wrist. “You’re such a goof. No, I didn’t buy a weird bug cake. It’s a pretty one from Soho, s’mores flavor.”

Jordan cuddled his girlfriend. “Oh, go on, treat yourself! We could share a small piece.”

“Don’t look at Leia. She never shares her dessert,” Sarah joked. “Come to think of it, she doesn’t like to share anything.”

Leia made a face.

“You know it’s true. You get mad every time I borrow your clothes.”

“That’s because you don’t ask. Borrowing implies consent. You just nick ’em!” Leia slowly shook her head, eyeballing Sarah’s blue sweater, which rightfully lived in her own wardrobe. “Anyway, no one has to share tonight. This cake could feed half this bar.” She dropped her napkin on the table and stood up. “The manager stored it for me. I’ll be right back!”

Halfway to the bar, her phone—face down on the table—lit up with a text.

Tarquin: I’m liking THAT visual a little too much. I’m getting hard just thinking about you. I wonder…what tastes sweeter—you or the macarons? Fancy finding out?

Fourteen

TARQUIN

I’d know that gorgeous long blonde hair anywhere.

Swerving around a pillar and a high-spirited huddle of city bankers slamming back blue shots, Tarquin clutched a pint and a bouquet of red and orange primroses. What’s she wearing? He approached her table crowded with dwindling drinks and half-eaten slices of chocolatey cake. A uni hoodie and jeans? Ooh, fun! Are we role-playing freshers week? Me the inexperienced shy nerd, her the sexy first-year