Page 3 of The Work Husband

I laughed, secure in the knowledge that Sam liked my bum far more than any random Instagram influencer’s. ‘Anyway. Not her. She’s in Ibiza for the summer, and once I’d sorted out her travel arrangements and got her into all the exclusive clubs – which wasn’t too hard, to be fair, she’s still famous enough – she’s pretty much leaving me alone.’

‘Cormac, then?’

I nodded. ‘You guessed it.’

‘What did he want this time?’

I explained about the impossible restaurant reservation.

‘But you nailed it, right?’ Sam asked. ‘Pulled strings, magicked a table out of thin air, everyone’s a winner?’

‘Not me.’ I took a gulp of my wine. ‘It was Jamie. I was pretty much ready to admit defeat.’

Sam’s smile wavered. ‘What did he do this time? Organise a last-minute train strike so loads of people had to cancel their bookings?’

I shook my head. ‘Guess again…’

‘Um… start a rumour about them poisoning diners with bad oysters?’

‘Nope, there wouldn’t have been time for that.’

‘Then I give up.’

I turned my wine glass around on the table, watching the wine turn from pale rose quartz to deep pink as it moved out of the sunlight. ‘Turns out he’s sleeping with one of the waitresses there.’

Sam rolled his eyes. ‘Of course he is.’

‘So he got her to cancel one of the existing bookings on their system and then sniped the table for Cormac. The people won’t know – they’ll turn up and find there’s no space for them. The staff will say it was some kind of computer glitch.’

‘Shit. Whose booking was it?’

‘I don’t know. Some random people. Could be anyone – a business dinner, a big birthday, regulars who go there all the time⁠—’

‘That’s kind of brutal.’

‘I know, right? But at least Cormac’s getting what he wanted.’

‘At the expense of some poor bugger who’d actually booked in time.’

‘Maybe they’ll squeeze them in? Maybe there’ll be a no-show, or they’ll sit them at the counter or something.’

I realised I was trying to convince myself as much as Sam, but it wasn’t working particularly well. I had an uneasy feeling growing in my stomach – ironically, not that dissimilar from when I did have a bad oyster a few years ago.

‘And what about the waitress? Won’t they sack her if they find out what she did?’

‘Maybe.’ Probably. The feeling was getting worse. ‘But they might not find out.’

‘That’s… I don’t know, Georgia. That’s not cool, really, is it?’

I shrugged miserably. Sam was only putting into words what I’d thought when Jamie told me how he’d pulled off this master stroke. Then, I’d been able to push my doubts aside, but now, seeing the situation through his eyes, it was harder to do that.

‘What could I do, though? By the time Jamie told me, it was already a done deal. And the alternative⁠—’

‘Was you getting yelled at by your client?’

‘Well, yeah. Not so bad, really, but I’m still glad it’s not going to happen. Thanks to Jamie.’

‘Your work husband.’ Sam grimaced. ‘Sometimes I wonder what’s going to happen when he decides to call in some of those favours he’s been doing for you.’