Page 92 of Fundamentals in Flirting

Clara let out a long breath.

“You and I both know that he’s really not the playboy he wants everyone to think he is. Henry told me that he’s barely had any girlfriends his whole life, and that he actually doesn’t like parties. Can you believe that?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

Clara nodded. Her large blue eyes were bright and shrewd as she gazed at me. “Don’t you love him?”

A soft fluttering had started in my chest, a feeling so alien and unknown and uncomfortable that it was more like nausea than anything else I could put my finger on.

“Because he most definitely loves you. He admitted as much to Henry the other night. Which is why he’s so hurt by all this, even if it’s all just in his own stupid mind,” she continued, gesticulating in large circles pretty close to my head.

My internal organs seemed to plummet and then rise, like being in an aeroplane during turbulence. It was simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying, a feeling of imminent death.

“I, um…”

“You don’t have to tell me anything – it’s ok. But I could really do with your help to patch things up between Henry and Ted. It’s totally floored Henry and I can’t bear to see him so upset.”

“Will Teddy listen to me though?”

“I think you’re the only one he will listen to, Hannah.”

“But he won’t answer my calls or messages. How on earth can I get him to talk to me?”

“I honestly don’t know, but you’re our only hope.” Clara hopped down off the table and reached into her bag, handing me her business card. “My number’s on there. Call me if you think of anything.”

“The thing is, Clara, I might not be staying around here.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “I see.”

“I’ve been offered the chance to return to my research career in Bristol. I’m due to go for an interview in the next few weeks. So maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

“Oh,” she said again. Fixing her face into the shakiest smile I’d ever seen, she reached over to pick up her handbag. “Well, that’s great news. I’m sure the interview is just a formality and you’ll sail through it.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, while I’m here, I thought you might like this. It’s a gift.” Digging in her enormous bag, Clara pulled out and handed me a rather tatty paperback with a faded picture of a buff shirtless man in a kilt on the front.

“A romance novel?”

“Yes!” Her face lit up like a firework. “But not any old romance book. It’s got this really hot highlander in it. Give it a try.”

“Right.” I was struck dumb for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do I need this?”

She grinned. “Fraser is a Scottish name, right?”

“Right,” I said again, staring intently at the book in my hands and trying to work out where on earth she was going with this.

“So, read it and see if it helps clear anything up for you regarding Teddy.”

“Teddy?”

“Yes.” She winked and pointed some finger guns at me, so that I totally forgot why I was perplexed, instead smiling broadly, a laugh bubbling up in my throat. There was something endearingly odd and wonderful about her.

“Have I done a weird thing?” She looked doubtful for a moment and reached over to take the book from my grasp, but I pulled it out of her reach.

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