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‘Well, perhaps that’s because this isn’t the kind of thing thatusuallyhappens,’ I countered, too angry to notice her slight recoil of surprise.
Jacqueline drummed a set of perfectly gelled nails on her desktop. ‘I suppose we could run a piece about how it feels to be in your current… predicament.’
I almost laughed at her careful choice of words, as though losing your fiancé on your wedding day was a terrible inconvenience, right up there with your Uber not turning up on time.
‘You mean a piece about being jilted,’ I challenged, getting to my feet as I spoke.
Jacqueline had the grace to look momentarily uncomfortable, but little shook her equilibrium for long. You needed to be sure-footed to climb as high up the publishing ladder as she had. It made me suddenly realise that I had absolutely no head for heights.
‘No, Jacqueline. Thank you for the offer, but I really don’t think I’ll be writing that piece.’ I wondered if the distant thumping noise I could hear was my heartbeat or the sound of me hammering the first nail into my career coffin. ‘But thanks for the paper and the use of the copier. I’ll see you in three weeks,’ I said, turning towards the door.
She didn’t try to stop me, and it really wouldn’t have done her any good if she had.
*
‘You should leave,’ Finn said. It was six months before our wedding, and we were lying in bed on a lazy Sunday morning, which I’d just ruined by thinking about the amount of work waiting to be dealt with in my inbox the following day. ‘You’re too good for that job, Gemma.’
I laughed and pulled him closer, breathing in the warm smell of his skin. If I could have bottled it, I swear I’d never buy another fragrance for as long as I lived. ‘I think you might be biased,’ I said, wriggling my hips until we were skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. His was getting faster, and mine wasn’t far behind.
‘And what would I do if I left?’ I asked him, finding it suddenly hard to concentrate as his body began to react to my closeness. ‘And anyway, it seems ungrateful to walk away from the job you patently gave to me.’
He laughed, a low throaty chuckle. ‘Not that again. How many times do I have to tell you, the job atGlowwas never mine.’
It was an old bone of contention that I dug up from time to time. Finn had never once admitted to turning down the job so I could have it, and I’d never once stopped believing that he had.
His hands were on my hips now, and with a practised skill I didn’t like to examine too closely, he effortlessly lifted me so that I was now positioned on top of him. I gasped and knew that thirty seconds from now, this conversation would be the furthest thing from my mind.
‘You could do anything you want. Find another magazine, or another newspaper, or jack it all in and write a book.’
I laughed, but his last suggestion had piqued my interest.
‘What about? I don’t have a story to tell.’
‘Everyone has a story,’ Finn replied, his breath warm against my throat. ‘You just haven’t found yours yet. Taking a gamble and writing a book was the best decision I ever made.’ He shook his head then, as though he’d just said something ridiculous. ‘Nah. Make that the second-best decision. Coming back to you will always be my number one.’
He looked up at me, his expression warm and growing hotter by the moment.
LeavingGlowwas something that would need careful consideration, but with Finn’s hands slowly travelling up from my ribcage and cupping my breasts, coherent thought had never seemed further away.
17
THEBOOKSHOP
Eighteen months earlier
‘I’m sorry! I’m so late!’ Hannah cried as she raced across the slippery pavement towards me.
‘Not really,’ I lied, because I didn’t want her to feel bad, and also it wasn’therfault that my toes were so cold I’d lost all feeling in them fifteen minutes earlier. That was entirely down to me having chosen thin-soled fashion boots rather than something sensible. ‘I only just got here myself,’ I added for good measure.
‘Well, that’s just a big, fat lie,’ Hannah said, linking her arm through mine. ‘Because your bright red nose says you’ve been waiting for me in this snowstorm for quite a while.’
I grimaced at her words. A shiny red nose was definitely not the look I’d spent so long in front of the mirror trying to achieve.
‘It’s cute. It makes you look kind of Rudolphy,’ Hannah said consolingly. ‘Although admittedly you’re a bit early for Christmas.’
She wasn’t wrong there. It was only mid-November and the unexpected miniature blizzard had caught everyone by surprise. The roads weren’t gritted yet, public transport was ill-prepared, and the trains were all running late. Even more annoying, the ‘see what you’ve been missing’ look I’d been aiming for didn’t work nearly so well when you resembled someone suffering from hypothermia.
I shivered and burrowed deeper into the thick white scarf I’d wound tightly around my neck. Waiting at the busy intersection, I’d been transfixed by the window display in the bookshop on the opposite side of the road. The bookshop where, right now, a man I hadn’t seen for two and a half years was holding the final event of his book tour.
