Page 78 of Short Stack 3

Jed and Artie

Confetti Hearts

Afternoon Delight

This was written for my newsletter subscribers and is set a few weeks after the epilogue ofPaper Roses.

Artie

I race up the steps to the hotel and push through the revolving door so fast that I startle a lady with a fur coat on the other side. She clutches her chihuahua closer, giving me an icy look before exiting the hotel in a much more civilised manner.

“Sorry,” I say to her back.

I look around for my husband and spot him immediately. He’s leaning against a marble pillar, his head down, checking his phone. He’s wearing his navy pinstriped suit and looks so tanned and handsome that my heart gives its usual happy pit-a-pat. His wedding ring gleams on his finger, and his hair still has the golden streaks from our honeymoon in Italy a month ago.

Italy will forever be a favourite memory. We’d spent most of the first week rolling around in the big bed in our suite, and the only view I’d seen was from our balcony. However, for the second and third weeks, he’d hired a car and taken me all over the Amalfi Coast. We’d explored the beautiful coastline to ourheart’s content, and I’d thrilled to see him tanned and so laid-back. He’d been so happy that he glowed, and he hadn’t checked his phone once, which is undoubtedly a miracle that should be noted in the history books. He’d been all mine, and I’d relished every happy, sun-filled minute. I’m already looking to book a skiing holiday at Christmas so I can have him all to myself again.

As if sensing my presence, he looks up, and his usually stern countenance immediately relaxes into a broad smile.

“Hey,” he says, pocketing his phone and sweeping me into a hug as soon as I get close. “Is it mad that I missed you this afternoon?” he asks, laughter rich in his voice.

I relax, feeling his warm body so familiar now. “I missed you too, so I think it’s okay if we’re both a little crazy.”

“Well, I’ve got used to having you all to myself.”

He hugs me again, and I can’t help my immediate recoil. “Ouch!”

He releases me, his eyes wide. “What’s the matter? Did Ihurtyou?”

“No, of course not,” I say, thinking fast. “I banged into a doorknob earlier, and I think I’ve bruised myself.”

He looks at me quizzically, and I know I’m bright red. I’m not very good at lying, and he’s brilliant at spotting them.

“Are they here yet?” I say in the hope of distracting him.

He blinks, still looking at me with concern. “Who?”

“Carla and Russell, the bride and groom.”

“Oh, them. No, they’re running late.”

I look past him. “Shall we get a drink while we wait? I’m really thirsty.”

He lets himself be towed along, still casting me looks. I don’t know whether scepticism became a part of Jed’s personality when he was a policeman or whether he was just born with loads of it.

We seat ourselves, and after ordering our drinks, I look across at him. “How was the staff meeting?”

“As lively and regrettably noisy as ever. Raff won the planner of the month, and his celebrations were more fucking annoying than a professional footballer’s.” I start to laugh, and he smiles at me. “How was your meeting?”

I’m just about to ask what meeting, and then I catch his slowly rising eyebrow. “Oh, it was fine,” I say immediately. “It was a bit boring, but you know how it is.”

“Not really.” His eyes twinkle. “It’s hard to have an inkling when you’ve been more secretive about it than an MI5 officer.”

“Good grief, I hope not. I still haven’t been able to go near a chip fryer since we watchedSpooks.”

He chuckles and then looks up as our bride and groom arrive.

They’re in their twenties, and the word that’s conjured when I see them is “shiny”. They’re always perfectly put together and seem to have a sheen of confidence and glamour.

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