Page 99 of The Secret Bridesmaid

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Jimmy is on the flyer. He’s standing with another bloke and two women, all wearing costume. The play is opening this weekend at a pub theater in Battersea.

“He’s an actor,” I say aloud, closing my eyes as the cold seeps into my skin. “He’s not a swan whisperer. He’s a fucking actor.”

Cordelia 1—Sophie 0.

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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

“I quit.” I slouch further back into my sofa, pulling my dressing gown as tightly over me as possible and clutching a fluffy pink hot-water bottle to my chest.

“Now, darling, let’s not be hasty,” Mum says, on FaceTime, busily looking through some files as she talks to me at her desk.

My phone is propped up on my coffee table by a pile of wedding magazines. Resting the hot-water bottle on my stomach, I wrap my hands round a mug of hot chocolate, wondering if I’ll ever feel warm again.

“I’m not being hasty. I’ve thought about it and I’m done. She wins. I quit.”

“I know whoever this bride is, she’s a little tricky—”

“Ha! A little tricky?” I cut in, snorting. “Mum, because of her, I was forced into St. James’s Park’s lake in a pair of leaking waders and shouted, ‘Kaw kaw kaw,’ like some kind ofmoron!”

Mum tries desperately not to laugh. I narrow my eyes at the screen. “It isnotfunny.”

“No, course not, darling, and I’ve told your father that several times.”

“Brilliant.”

“Oh, Sophie, it must have been awful. I really am sorry.”

“Itwasawful.” I sniff, taking a sip of hot chocolate and feeling very sorry for myself. “But it was also eye-opening. I’m done taking orders from her. I’m done doing whatever she says, blindlyfollowing her…” I hesitate, my sentence trailing off. “She was right all along. I’m a sheep. A pathetic sheep.”

“You’re not a sheep, darling. You were doing your job! Everyone who works has to follow orders from someone.”

“First thing in the morning, I’m going to call her mother and officially hand in my notice.”

“But I thought you said this wedding was important to you.”