Page 98 of All We Want for Christmas
OK. Sounds like it could be fun. See you later.
Good job Flynn had hedged his bets and ordered everything he might need the previous day: if she hadn’t agreed, he was going to be a very sad and lonely figure with a takeaway for two next to his new Christmas tree.
Still, her message was hardly wild with enthusiasm, but he could hardly blame her for being wary. He’d messed her around so much, so caught up in his own problems, that he hadn’t thought of her – yet expected her to help and support him when it suited him.
He checked his watch again and decided to get the plates out of the kitchen cupboards ready for the Uber delivery scheduled for 8 p.m. Hopefully it arrived after he and Lara had had time to talk and loosen up.
Twenty minutes until she was due to arrive. He was as nervous as a schoolboy on a first date, but he could hardly pace the room: his knee was already aching like the devil. He eased himself down onto the chair and waited for the knock on the door.
It came a few moments later, when he’d barely made himself comfortable. She was early: surely a good sign?
‘Hold on a sec!’ he called, limped to the fridge, and collected the bottle of champagne. Somehow, he managed to make it to the door with the bottle tucked under his arm and the aid of one crutch, gingerly taking some weight on his knee. It hurt but he didn’t care.
‘It’s unlocked,’ he said, standing back from the door.
The door opened and Flynn readied himself with his warmest smile.
‘Happy New—’ He stopped. ‘Imogen?’
‘Wow. That’s pushing the boat out.’ Imogen had a supermarket carrier. ‘I brought fizzy apple juice. I can’t drink.’
Flynn hesitated. ‘But what are …’ Flynn’s question died in his mouth even though it pulsed in his brain. What was she doing there?
‘Molly said you wanted us all to spend New Year’s Eve together. Mum’s babysitting.’ She looked at the table laid for two and frowned. ‘Is she not here yet?’
‘No … no … er. Come inside.’
‘Molly had to twist my arm. I had my doubts but she was adamant. We do need to talk properly, though I’m not sure tonight is the best idea. She said it would mark a fresh start …’ Imogen looked at the table laid for two. ‘Oh my God. She’s set us up, hasn’t she? What’s she said? That this is some kind of cosy date – just the two of us?’
Flynn was in mental agony. He didn’t know what to say, or, rather, he knew what he had to say but not how to break it to Imogen that he’d been expecting another woman.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Hold on. Did you even know I was coming?’
‘Not exactly, no.’
She covered her face with her hands and let out a cry of frustration. ‘Oh, Molly, Molly, Molly, I love you but this is one of your worst ideas ever.’
‘She probably had good intentions,’ Flynn said, realising that he and Imogen had been set up.
‘Yeah. She did.’
Imogen’s gaze was drawn to the table with its flowers and candle. ‘If you didn’t know I was coming, then who’s that for?’
Flynn took a breath. ‘I invited a friend over.’
‘That friend being – Lara, by any chance?’
There was no point in lying. ‘Yes.’
She groaned. ‘Shit.’
‘I’m sorry, Imogen, but don’t blame Molly. She has no idea about Lara. She just wants something that’s never going to happen.’
‘I know.’ Imogen sat down. ‘I’ve made a giant cock-up of everything.’
Flynn lowered himself into the chair too, his knee throbbing worse than ever.
‘No, you haven’t, and we really do need to talk but tonight isn’t the best time.’ Lara was due in ten minutes, and the last thing he wanted was her walking in on him and Imogen having a cosy chat.
