‘Don’t ask me. I wouldn’t have a clue. I’m so glad it’s not me doing it.’
You should , Chloe thought, looking at her beautiful sister, all pink-faced and smiling her pretend-happy smile. Maybe dating would rub the sad part off at least just a little. But she knew Jenna wouldn’t hear of it. Flatly refused.
The thing was, whilst Chloe didn’t believe that love was enough to keep two people together, Jenna believed she’d had her one chance for life, and no one would ever be as good as Ollie. And Chloe didn’t want to stress her sister, so she let it drop. She contemplated the swatches in her hand. ‘Okay, virginal white or vampy red?’
Jenna looked thoughtful. ‘Red. With some artwork? Stripes? Flowers? Have you chatted him?’
‘Chatted him? Is that an actual verb now? Yes, we talked a little on the video link thing.’ This was so bloody hard. ‘It’s like window shopping and being window-shopped. There’s no romance in it, not like the golden days of seeing someone across a crowded room and taking a chance. The shy but slow burn of a fledgling love.’ When only TheBigCarlhuna had responded to her messages, she’d had no choice but to go with the video link flow. ‘To be honest, I was starting to feel like I was the coffee cream on the pick and mix stand, the one people only choose when there’s nothing else left.’
Jenna frowned. ‘You’re not the coffee cream, lovely sister of mine. You’re… you’re the Valrhona of the pick and mix stand, the Cadbury creme egg—original version, naturally. You’re the best damned chocolate in the universe. Just remember that when you’re talking to him.’
I am Valrhona. Dark, mysterious and delicious. For the first time since this whole debacle began, Chloe laughed. ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine, and if not, I can make a quick getaway, right? Text me fifteen minutes in and I can use you as an excuse if I need to. Yes, I like the red, it makes me feel adventurous, but I’m not sure I’m up to art as well.’
Her sister scrutinised the handiwork. ‘You’re probably right. I like the plain red; it’s forthright without being in your face. So, after you've been with him a few minutes, nip to the loo and text me that you’re okay, just a thumbs up or down. And leave your find-a-friend app on so we can trace you if needs be… You know, if you…’ She did a slashing motion with her fingers across her throat.
‘Gee, thanks… I’m really feeling the trust vibes here. I’ll be fine. Really. He’s a musician, and he’s two years older than me. He seems nice, with a kind of overly zealous smile and a soft voice. Mostly we just murmured. God, it was embarrassing. I think he was more nervous than I was. What the heck are we supposed to say? I can’t remember how to flirt.’ And then there might be a kiss… and maybe more? She was bonkers for doing this. ‘What if he wants more? What if he doesn’t? What if he hates me? Aaargh! It’s so much easier staying in and binge-watching box sets.’
But that wouldn’t get her a date for the wedding. And not going would mean she took a risk on drumming up more clients. So she was stuck with it.
Maybe she could get a date-by-mail order? Was that really even a thing? Tick-boxing all the right attributes: tall, dark, and handsome. Messy hair. Dark, haunted eyes…
And then that thought took her on a strange trail that ricocheted from her own wedding and back to yesterday at Vaughn’s, and the strange tummy-tumbling thing started to happen all over again. And that was enough to convince her that she needed to be focused on the coffee this afternoon and not thinking about the best man shenanigans, because all that did was produce anxiety.
Jenna did that sisterly thing of patting Chloe’s arm. ‘Just be yourself, honey. TheBigCarlhuna will love you.’
‘The new me with the gel nail varnish and freshly manicured lady garden? Instead of bitten to the quick fingernails and… well, let’s just
You should , Chloe thought, looking at her beautiful sister, all pink-faced and smiling her pretend-happy smile. Maybe dating would rub the sad part off at least just a little. But she knew Jenna wouldn’t hear of it. Flatly refused.
The thing was, whilst Chloe didn’t believe that love was enough to keep two people together, Jenna believed she’d had her one chance for life, and no one would ever be as good as Ollie. And Chloe didn’t want to stress her sister, so she let it drop. She contemplated the swatches in her hand. ‘Okay, virginal white or vampy red?’
Jenna looked thoughtful. ‘Red. With some artwork? Stripes? Flowers? Have you chatted him?’
‘Chatted him? Is that an actual verb now? Yes, we talked a little on the video link thing.’ This was so bloody hard. ‘It’s like window shopping and being window-shopped. There’s no romance in it, not like the golden days of seeing someone across a crowded room and taking a chance. The shy but slow burn of a fledgling love.’ When only TheBigCarlhuna had responded to her messages, she’d had no choice but to go with the video link flow. ‘To be honest, I was starting to feel like I was the coffee cream on the pick and mix stand, the one people only choose when there’s nothing else left.’
Jenna frowned. ‘You’re not the coffee cream, lovely sister of mine. You’re… you’re the Valrhona of the pick and mix stand, the Cadbury creme egg—original version, naturally. You’re the best damned chocolate in the universe. Just remember that when you’re talking to him.’
I am Valrhona. Dark, mysterious and delicious. For the first time since this whole debacle began, Chloe laughed. ‘I’m sure he’ll be fine, and if not, I can make a quick getaway, right? Text me fifteen minutes in and I can use you as an excuse if I need to. Yes, I like the red, it makes me feel adventurous, but I’m not sure I’m up to art as well.’
Her sister scrutinised the handiwork. ‘You’re probably right. I like the plain red; it’s forthright without being in your face. So, after you've been with him a few minutes, nip to the loo and text me that you’re okay, just a thumbs up or down. And leave your find-a-friend app on so we can trace you if needs be… You know, if you…’ She did a slashing motion with her fingers across her throat.
‘Gee, thanks… I’m really feeling the trust vibes here. I’ll be fine. Really. He’s a musician, and he’s two years older than me. He seems nice, with a kind of overly zealous smile and a soft voice. Mostly we just murmured. God, it was embarrassing. I think he was more nervous than I was. What the heck are we supposed to say? I can’t remember how to flirt.’ And then there might be a kiss… and maybe more? She was bonkers for doing this. ‘What if he wants more? What if he doesn’t? What if he hates me? Aaargh! It’s so much easier staying in and binge-watching box sets.’
But that wouldn’t get her a date for the wedding. And not going would mean she took a risk on drumming up more clients. So she was stuck with it.
Maybe she could get a date-by-mail order? Was that really even a thing? Tick-boxing all the right attributes: tall, dark, and handsome. Messy hair. Dark, haunted eyes…
And then that thought took her on a strange trail that ricocheted from her own wedding and back to yesterday at Vaughn’s, and the strange tummy-tumbling thing started to happen all over again. And that was enough to convince her that she needed to be focused on the coffee this afternoon and not thinking about the best man shenanigans, because all that did was produce anxiety.
Jenna did that sisterly thing of patting Chloe’s arm. ‘Just be yourself, honey. TheBigCarlhuna will love you.’
‘The new me with the gel nail varnish and freshly manicured lady garden? Instead of bitten to the quick fingernails and… well, let’s just
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