Page 33 of The One That I Want

‘Because Greta doesn’t know that I know she knows. If she did, I’m certain she would have brought it up last night. She’s asking for a way to maintain her part of the ruse without revealing to me – or her boss – that she knows.Whilebeing open to falling in love.’

‘Butwhydoesn’t she want her boss to know she knows?’ asks George, his brow creased in confusion.

‘Look, Greta’s a pro. My best guess is that she wants to smash this assignment – it’s good for the magazine, she loves writing articles… She’ll also understand that Anjali’s intentions are pure and maybe she’s worried about damaging the dynamic of their relationship. Either way, we need to set Greta up with some duds. We can introduce her first real match afterwards.’

‘Poppy, I’m going to need a headache tablet before I can decipher all that,’ says Ursula drily.

‘Just trust me – we need some duds. Can you help?’

Her lips purse slightly – the Ursula equivalent of dubiousness. ‘If Saskia and Paloma sign off, I’ll find you some from the reject pile.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Wait, we have a reject pile?’ asks George.

She gives him a withering look, as ifheshould be relegated to the reject pile.

My eyes flick to the wall clock behind reception. ‘Come on, staff meeting.’

As we make our way to the conference room, Ursula leans in. ‘I suggest you let me explain what you’re asking. You made about as much sense as one of those Australianisms you constantly spout.’

I wouldn’t say Iconstantlyspout Aussie-isms, but at least I’ve got Ursula on side.

‘What about this bloke?’ asks George as he slides a folder across the table.

‘Give me the abridged version,’ I reply, not lifting my gaze from the bio in front of me.

‘There may as well be “misogynist” scrawled across the top of his file in giant, red letters.’

‘Ah, that old chestnut.’ Intrigued, I pull the folder towards me, and skim read. ‘Oh, Michael – what a prince you are. He’s definitely going on the list.’

‘How many do we have so far?’

I look at my tablet. ‘That makes five. We’ve got fifty-and-still-lives-with-his-mum, the guy who’s playing the numbers game?—’

‘Sir Dates-A-Lot,’ quips George.

‘Hah, good one,’ I say, glancing up to catch George’s less-than-impressed expression.

‘He clocks up nine dates a weekend, Poppy. If he hasn’t found his someone by now, it’s probably him, not them.’

I laugh. ‘I was thinking the same thing. Right,’ I say consulting the list again. ‘There’s also the part-time naturist and every-spare-moment-in-the-gym-and-won’t-shut-up-about-it guy.’

‘I don’t know which one I’d rather date less. And where would you evengowith a naturist? No shoes, no shirt, notrousers, no service.’

‘Look at you with the snappy one-liners today.’ George takes the compliment with a self-satisfied smile. ‘And Mr Misogyny,’ I add, typing in Michael’s name.

George puts down the sheaf of papers he’s holding. ‘Are you sure you want to put Greta thought all this? I like her and these men are…’ His face screws up as if he smells something foul.

‘She asked us to. Besides, I gave her Harrison’s bio and it took her less than a day to call me in a panic. And it’s a valid concern, as there’s every chance he’s her match. And not just because we chose him and we’re good – but it was the way she talked about him. If we do this, she gets to fulfil her end of the bargain without revealing to Anjali that?—’

‘That sheknows… Iknow, Poppy. Blimey, this is like that episode ofFriendswhen everyone finds out about Monica and Chandler.’

‘Oh, I love that one,’ I say.

‘Iknow.’

We look at each other for a beat, then burst out laughing.

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