Page 6 of I Knew You Were Trouble

We drank the rest of the bottle while we waited for our food to arrive, Margot entertaining us by listing all the things she disliked about Jon. Apparently, his caginess was the tip of the iceberg.

But when she said, ‘And he’s sodull,’ I burst into tears. Because in many ways Jonisdull, but I’ve always looked past it because he’s so thoughtful, always sending me sweet messages and bringing me trinkets from his travels.

Wasso thoughtful, I remind myself again – past tense.

Though how thoughtful is it to deliberately deceive your fiancée? Make thatfiancées.

By the time our takeaway arrived, I was too distraught to eat and Margot put me to bed. That may explain the queasy stomach – half a bottle of champers and no food.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ says Margot, springing out of bed. She pauses at the door. ‘And then we’re making a plan.’

‘Ugh,’ I groan again. ‘Can’t I at least take the day to get my mind around things?’ I ask, my voice muffled by my pillow.

‘No, you can’t.’ I turn my head and peek at her through my lashes. She has her arms folded over her chest. ‘Do you think Jon’s out there “taking the day”?’

‘That makes no sense,’ I reply. ‘Why would he?—’

‘Of course he isn’t!’ she continues, talking over me. ‘He’s probably somewhere wooing fiancée number three by now! I’m telling you, Kate, we need a plan. We need to take Jon down.’

‘Fine,’ I say, more to shut her up than anything.

It does the trick – for now, anyway – and she leaves. Moments later, she’s banging about in my kitchen. She must open every cupboard before she finds the one with the mugs. Anyone would think she’d never been here before.

We need a plan.

What we need – whatIneed – is to contact the matchmaking agency and ask them how in the hell someone like Jon got on their books. Though, maybe they did everything they could to screen him. If he successfully lied to me –andAdriana – then he probably lied to them as well.

God, I hope there aren’t more of us out there. And it’s not only Margot who’s suggested there might be. Willem said the same thing before we parted ways at the pub.

Something comes to me – or rather,someone. A possible ally to help me untangle this godawful mess.

I kick off the duvet and, ignoring the protestations from my body, get up and go into the kitchen.

‘Hey, Margot, I have an idea…’

* * *

‘Youseriouslymet Jon through a matchmaking agency? You told me you met through friends.’

‘That was a lie – a little white lie,’ I add hurriedly when Margot’s expression sours. ‘Jon was embarrassed about using a matchmaker, so…’ I shrug apologetically as her eyes bore into mine, her mouth taut and downturned. Another black mark against Jon’s name – and possibly mine.

‘Well, it’s moot now anyway.’ She waves her hand and I’m instantly forgiven. ‘So, who’s thisothermatchmaker then?’

‘She’s called Poppy – Poppy Dean – and she’s with the Ever After Agency.’

Margot snorts. ‘Is it really called that?’

‘Yes, but it doesn’t matter what it’s called. What matters is that I really connected with Poppy. She’s a lovely person – whip-smart and an all-round good egg.’

‘Only not a good matchmaker.’

‘Why do you say that?’ I ask, taking offence on Poppy’s behalf.

‘Because you signed on with two agencies at the same time and she was pipped at the post.’

‘Yes, but Poppy didn’t match me with a two-timing liar, did she?No,’ I say, answering my own rhetorical question. ‘That was Arabella.’

‘So why not go see Arabella then? She caused this mess – she should clean it up.’

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