Читать книгу My Perfect Stranger: A hilarious love story by the bestselling author of One Day in December - Kat French, Kat French - Страница 14

‘Are you one hundred per cent certain that he’s a normal, non-heartbroken guy, Nell? Because after Deano, I’m pretty much ready to jack this whole ridiculous idea in.’

Honey looked at Nell steadily who gazed unflinchingly back at her over the rim of her cappuccino cup.

‘And where exactly is that attitude going to get you, Honeysuckle?’ She arched her eyebrows. ‘I’ll tell you where it’ll get you. Nowhere, apart from lonely. So Deano wasn’t the one. We were never likely to get it right straight away, were we?’

‘Weren’t we?’ Honey said. ‘Because I kind of thought we’d have one go at this and bam, I’d be marrying Michael Bublé. That’s how you guys sold it to me.’

‘So sue us,’ Tash laughed and shrugged her shoulders. ‘What’s this Robin like then, Nell?’

Nell placed her coffee cup down in its saucer. ‘Well, he’s quite good looking actually,’ she said, nodding slowly in a way that made Honey instantly suspicious.

‘You don’t sound very sure,’ she said.

‘No, he is … in a kind of old-fashioned way,’ Nell seemed to choose her words with care. ‘I mean, granted, he’s no Bublé, but he has, umm … good hair, and he laughs a lot. You need a man who can make you laugh, Honey.’ Nell nodded a little too vigorously for Honey’s liking.

‘So, when am I supposed to be meeting him?’

Nell studied her fingernails. ‘The thing is, Hon, he’s not much of a pub person, so I kind of said you’d cook for him.’ The end of Nell’s sentence came out twice as quickly as the beginning, as if Nell hoped it might go unnoticed if she said it really quickly.

‘Nell!’ Tash said. ‘You know that’s a bad idea.’

Relieved to have her friend’s support, Honey nodded. ‘No way. I can’t have a stranger into my house, Nell! It’s blind date rule number one, meet in a well-lit, neutral place.’

‘I wasn’t thinking about that,’ Tash said, frowning at Nell. ‘You know she can’t cook; she’ll probably poison him before he can get anywhere close to showing her his finger skills.’

‘Well, I suggested his house first, but he said his mother would be home.’

‘He still lives with his mother?’ Honey said, glancing at her watch to see if it was too early for a real drink. Nope, still eleven thirty in the morning. Every few weeks the three women met for Saturday brunch in their favourite café, but this week Honey was enjoying it a lot less than usual thanks to the current subject matter. Every aspect of her life seemed to be more stressful than usual at the moment; her job was under threat, her friends were pimping her out to strange men based on a ridiculous premise, and her home had been invaded by her abusive and reclusive neighbour. Was it any wonder she was considering asking for a double shot of rum in her coffee?