Page 1 of Long Story Short

1

And I knew when we kissed, I had found the love of my life. And it wasn’t a happy ending after all.

It was just the beginning for us.

I closed the book with a contented sigh as the Tube train pulled into my station. I hastily stuffedWhen I Met Youby Jake Richards into my bag, jumped up and alighted, following the throng of my fellow commuters onto the long escalator, tapping my card at the barrier at the top, and walking out into the fresh air. I left Oxford Circus station and passed by the shops that were a dangerous temptation every day and headed down a side street towards my place of work.

It was a bright June morning and the sign of sunshine, coupled with the warm, fuzzy feeling I always got at the end of reading a romance novel, left me beaming as I walked to the office. My smile broadened further when my phone buzzed in my bag and I saw that it was my cousin Liv calling me.

‘Morning, Liv,’ I greeted her as I slowed my pace to chat. I pushed back my wavy, auburn hair off my face, wishing I had tied it up.

‘Hey Freya, where are you?’

‘Walking to work… I just finished the new Jake Richards book on my way in.’

‘Oh my God, how was it?’ Liv asked eagerly. She not only was a huge romance reader like me but we also made our living from romance books. Liv was an author, and I worked for a literary agent specialising in the genre.

My chunky ankle boots clip-clopped along the cobbles on the road where the tall, white building that housed the Hayley Harper Literary Agency stood. ‘It was so swoony, Liv. When the couple finally kiss and declare they love each other at the end, I had tears in my eyes. It’s gorgeous. I think it might be his best book but who knows if it will ever see the light of day?’

‘Hmm. I still can’t believe he said what he said,’ she agreed, darkly.

I nodded even though she couldn’t see me. ‘It kind of broke my heart a little bit,’ I confessed. Jake Richards wrote the most romantic stories and he had always been one of my favourite authors.

But now, I wasn’t so sure.

‘His readers are all heartbroken; I wonder if Hayley can get this book published,’ Liv mused.

‘Time will tell,’ I said, pushing open the door to my office building and heading towards the lifts that would take me up to the fifth floor. I had been assistant to Hayley Harper for six months after Liv recommended me for the position. Liv was one of Hayley’s clients, and her romance-writing career was off to a great start, although she had a long way to go to reach Jake Richards’ heights. I was confident she would one day, though. I loved her writing, and was so grateful that after trying to get a job in the publishing world for a year, she helped me get this one. And I was determined to become a literary agent myself one day.

‘I just don’t understand how someone who can write a story like this one seems to hate romance. This book is so full of heart.’ I sighed wistfully. ‘God, I love reading romance but sometimes, it does make me hate being single.’

‘I’m sorry, Freya. But look, I felt the same way and then I got together with Aiden. It will happen for you too. You’re too lovely not to find someone special.’

I smiled as I pushed the call lift button. ‘You’re biased as you’re family but thank you. I can’t help but wish it would happen sooner than later. This dry spell is going on a long time.’

‘Dry spell?’

‘I haven’t had sex for three years.’

‘Three years! But I thought you were on the dating apps?’

‘I am but seriously, Liv, none of the men on there appear to have even heard the word “romance”. They all want to start sexting or sending nudes or meeting up for “Netflix and chill” straight away. What happened to going on a date first? Buying a girl dinner? Or even giving a compliment that isn’t “you look like someone I want to fuck”?’ I continued ranting down the phone, the passion in my voice making it increase in volume as I waited for the lift.

‘Ugh. That does sound horrible. Men should definitely read romance novels…’

‘They really should. I have to go; the lift is here. And I need to start work.’

‘Okay. I was just checking we’re still on for drinks tonight?’

‘Definitely. See you at the bar at seven.’ I hung up, stowed my phone in my bag and when the lift doors opened, I stepped in and turned around.

And froze.

Because I was now face to face with a familiar figure who I hadn’t realised must have been standing behind me waiting for the lift too. Our eyes met, then he stepped in beside me.

‘Morning,’ he said with a curt nod.

I couldn’t speak. My face flushed as he turned around, giving me his back and pushed the button for the fifth floor. Humiliation and horror washed over me like I’d just stepped into one of those ice baths that athletes use. I couldn’t believe that not only someone could have overheard me telling Liv all about my dry spell and how men have lost the romance gene lately, but I knew this person.

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