Page 40 of Forever Not Yours

“Tell me,” I said, straightening up,almostwithout wincing. “Can’t be worse than mine.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been chatting to this guy online for a couple of weeks. Nice guy. Lawyer. Decided to finally meet on Saturday night, at a wine bar on the South Bank. You know. Fancy.”

“Fancy indeed.” I had no idea why I was still going along with this conversation.

“Turned up, all dolled up, forked out on a blow-dry and everything. Guy’s sat at the table.”

“What was wrong with him?”

“What was wrong with him? Nothing at all. Looked exactly like his photo, great body, nice hair…just completely drunk.”

“Oh.”Damn,girl!

“Tried to hold a conversation, spilled his drink, slurred out a load of nonsense and then disappeared off to get another gin and tonic. I sat there in shock. I mean? He’s a highly successful, educated lawyer. I’dlooked him up, read his bio, researched, all of that. He was so nice over texts, and then this? I can understand one drink to calm the nerves but… Damn. It was embarrassing. So I sit there, and the lady at the next table leans over and whispers, ‘You can leave now. Just go. We’ll cover for you.’”

She nodded. I did too. “Good call.”

“I ran. Didn’t remember to block him until I got home, but I hate all of it. The dating, the men, the whole song and dance of trying to find someone who will just treat you nicely and buy you flowers once in a while.”

“If it only were that easy,” I inserted into her sentence.

“It’s not. It’s horrible, and it makes you feel really disillusioned about yourself.”

“I know,” I admitted and cringed, because I did know. And I also knew something else.

“What about your weekend?”

“Broke up with someone recently, so staying with a friend. Trying to patch my life back up.”

“So that’s why you keep asking me to fix your life.”

“Yup.”

“Not doing that. Can’t even fix my own.”

“You’ll be fine. You’ll just wake up one morning and realise that the person you least expected was the love of your life.”

I went quiet. No idea where that had come from.

“Let’s make a deal,” she said. “You find me the love of my life, and I’ll fixyourlife.”

“Oh, that sounds like a risky deal.”

“You know all about risky deals,” she teased. “I saw the Graham Bloom portfolio. Balls of steel there.”

I puffed out my chest. I was rather proud of that little venture. So was Juliet, who rapped her fingers against the door and opened it without waiting for permission.

Very her.

“Ah, just the person,” I said. “Juliet, we need to have a meeting. Faye and I have a few things to put to you. Tomorrow. Faye will make the arrangements.” I waved my hand around, tried to look in control.

“Good,” Juliet said, not missing a beat. “And I need the Johnstone files.”

“On it,” I promised.

“Paracetamol?” Faye asked, standing up.

“Please. And I’ll get on to sorting you out with a man.”

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