Page 18 of Knotting Hill
“JP St. Luc, and he was digging for information on you! I gave him a bit of a run around to make him squirm, but he is so into you. I didn’t even know you guys knew each other. You’ve never said.” She sounds slightly miffed at this.
“Idon’tknow him,” I huff. “And if I did, I would tell him to get knotted. He is a fucking prick.”
“Wow, okay, fierce. Why do I have to kill him?”
I giggle. I love Cass so much. Everyone misreads her at first. She is sharp as a whip. Could’ve gone to med school like her parents, which is where her parents met mine, and why we have been friends since birth.
“It’s a long story. Can I tell you over frozen pizza later at mine?”
“Sold! See you in a bit.”
She hangs up without any pressure to fill her inright now. She is happy to wait for when I’m ready.
Feeling a bit brighter now that I’m seeing my best friend after this remarkably shitty day, with my head down, I get back to work quickly and quietly, not wanting to create any more waves in my wake than I already have today.
Today.
This day has been a long-arse piece of shit. It feels like I’ve been slogging through these hours for about a week.
At half past four on the dot, with no more interactions with Angela, and I haven’t even seen David Robb today, I creep out, giving Sadie a tight smile which she returns. Luckily for me, I checked the calendar and saw that Cheryl is due back in tomorrow. She can distract everyone with tales of her fabulous holiday of clear seas and white beaches, and I can live vicariously through her for a while.
Breathing in deeply as I step out into the late afternoon sun, it feels a little chilly, so I fold my arms and walk quickly back to my flat. I let myself in and dump my bag on the side table near the door. Knowing Cass will be here soon, as her Boutique closes at 4.30 as well today, I head straight for the freezer and pull out a frozen pepperoni, turning to the oven to preheat it. I make my way over to the bed and kick my shoes off, dragging my cardi off as well to change out of my work clothes into the baggy leggings and camisole top that I intend to wear to bed later. I don’t stand on ceremony with Cass. She’s seen me in worse and less andcovered in vomit once back in high school when I thought it was a great idea to down Sambuca shots on my seventeenth birthday, which I pinched from my parents' drinks cupboard.
Yeah, never, ever again.
My stomach protests even now when back in the kitchen, I slide the pizza onto a tray and into the oven just as the buzzer goes for downstairs.
Smiling, I check the little cam and see Cass waving at me, so I let her up and open the front door for her.
“I want to know everything!” she says, bustling in and making herself at home.
“Short version…I tripped on a Cockapoo coming out of the coffee shop this morning and dumped my latte macchiato all over him. He was extraordinarily angry and told me I had to pay for his dry cleaning.”
“What the fuck is a Cockapoo?” she asks, scrunching up her nose.
“A small dog which is a cross between a Cocker Spaniel and a Poodle.”
“Fuck’s sake,” she mutters. “Is the dog okay?”
“The dog is fine,” I grit out.
“Just asking,” she says defensively. “I mean, I can see you are okay, if not a little riled.”
“Pissed off. JP is a real arsehole.”
“But an arsehole who is interested in you,” she says slyly.
“Doubtful. He probably just wanted to know where to find me in case I ducked out of the dry-cleaning bill.”
“No. He is definitely into you. He came in to buy a new t-shirt. He picked up one with a fucking cherry print on it. Cherries. If that doesn’t say he’s thinking about you, then nothing does.”
I purse my lips. I don’t even know what to say to that.
“He was poking about a bit, looking for the scoop.”
“You didn’t tell him anything, did you?”
“Might’ve mentioned one or two things…he said he’d DM me so we could arrange to go out.”
