Page 76 of The Life-Changing Magic of Falling in Love

George

Despite the colossal amount of alcohol I’ve consumed, it’s no exaggeration to say that this has turned out to be:

Literally. The. Worst. Day. Ever.

After letting myself into my apartment I weave along the corridor, I assume with the intention of finding either my sofa or my bed. Can’t seem to work out which but I definitely want one of them to provide the oblivion I seek.

Still can’t get my breathing under control.

Really thought the alcohol would help.

Big no.

Have this horrid feeling I’m permanently on the verge of a panic attack.

Probably still in shock.

Hours after the incident.

My breath continues to shudder in and out of me as my mind continuously loops on the awfulness of the day and what has transpired.

But wait a minute – what’s this? My next laboured breath simply stops in my throat as my gaze zeroes in on the woman in my apartment.

On all fours.

In some blindingly white lab coat that doesn’t even cover her… As my oxygen runs out, I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting the final thing I saw to be, but hands-down I wouldn’t have come up with a pretty brunette in a super-sexy lab coat.

I don’t understand. And my mind can’t quite catch up to my mouth as I stagger across the living area, hand outstretched, presumably to introduce myself to the angel I can only assume my brother has arranged for me with some warped idea of cheering me up.

Wouldn’t have been my first thought if Marcus had called me to drunkenly state he’d be attending my wedding solo on account of having broken up with his girlfriend … and that that wasn’t even the worst of it.

But then that’s Marcus for you. Champion of thinking outside the box. Have to commend him on his ability to spring into action as I’m not sure it’s been even an hour since I phoned him from the bar.

Still … on my last breath or not … manners dictate I at least introduce myself to the woman who’s let herself into my home. Unfortunately, that’s when her leg suddenly kicks out in an efficient slicing motion and then the next thing I know, I’m dropping to the floor like a sack of spuds.

‘What the … ow?’ I hear a deep groan and realise the sound has come from me.

‘Holy guacamole—’ The brunette switches position on the floor and suddenly she’s exceptionally up close and personal, her huge brown eyes staring deep into mine. ‘Please say I haven’t given you a concussion. How many fingers am I holding up?’ She waves her hand madly in front of my face making me feel unbalanced despite the fact I’m lying on the floor.

I try and focus as her voice turns sympathetic. ‘I had to put you on the floor, George. You do understand that, right? I mean, you can’t just reach out to touch whatever you feel like touching … not when it’s an actual live person.’

‘You’re not some absinthe fairy I’ve summoned?’ I croak out, embarrassed on so many levels, the most important one being that I can’t work out what the hell is going on. ‘You’re real?’

‘Oh, I’m as real as it gets, George.’

‘I see.’ Except I don’t. Still unable to grasp the situation fully as the logic of walking into my apartment and being confronted by Tinkerbell in some Weird Science fantasy, meets the insurmountable fact that there’s no way Marcus could have organised this from across the pond.

‘It’s me, George. Ashleigh.’

‘Ashleigh?’ My mind scrambles. Then, I’m pretty sure my eyes goggle. ‘Wait – you’re Ashleigh?’

‘As you live and breathe,’ she says with a nod.

I really wish she hadn’t mentioned breathing but then all I can think is … oh … shit … was I about to accidentally come on to my cleaner?

I breathe in sharply.

Open my mouth to apologise.

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