Page 4 of Made Up for Love
Ever since Joel had split from his fiancée, Luke had tried to set him up with almost every woman in a five-mile vicinity. There had been friends of Luke’s sister, work colleagues, even the daughter of the woman who worked behind the bar at the rugby club. They had lasted no longer than a few dates. He was still fearful of trusting another woman.
A beep in Joel’s ear signalled another call. Quickly glancing at the screen, he saw it was Sophia, his PA. For her to call this late meant it must be important.
“Luke, I’ve got to go. My dinner’s arrived.” Although it was meant to be a lie, there was a knock on the door just as Joel switched between calls. “Sophia, hang on a sec.” He let in the porter with the dinner tray, signed for it, then picked up his phone again. “Hi, I’m back.”
“Joel, I’m so glad I got hold of you. I don’t know if you’ve read your emails?”
He hadn’t. “What’s up?” He lifted the silver, domed lid covering his burger and inhaled, the aroma of freshly cooked chips invading his nostrils.
“They want to move the meeting tomorrow. Apparently, something’s come up in the morning and they need to change it to later in the afternoon.”
“What time?”
“Four-thirty.”
Joel sighed. He’d been looking forward to pitching at ten, then spending a bit of time sightseeing before catching an early evening flight home. The change in meeting time meant that he’d have to stay an extra night as there wouldn’t be enough time to get to the airport.
“I’ve already changed your flight to Thursday morning and extended your hotel booking. Make sure you keep an eye on the weather forecast though; it sounds like there could be some snow up there.”
If she wasn’t his PA, Joel sometimes wished that Sophia was his girlfriend. She was always totally organised and knew exactly what he needed, sometimes before he did. However, he had sworn to himself that he would never get involved in a workplace romance again, no matter how perfect the person appeared to be. After all, that was how he had met his ex-fiancée.
“Thanks, Sophia, you’re amazing. Can I clone you?”
She laughed. “Not unless you want to be organised within an inch of your life!” Her tone changed back to serious. “Have you got everything you need for tomorrow? Do you want to run through the presentation again in the morning?”
“That might be a good idea.” His stomach growled. “I’m going to get dinner now; I’ll talk to you in the morning.”
“Make sure you get a good night’s sleep and don’t drink too much from the mini-bar. There’s only so much I can get through on expenses. Night, Joel.” With that, she hung up.
Joel took the tray and went to sit back on the bed. He shook some vinegar over the plate and popped a chip into his mouth, savouring the flavour, then picked up his burger. As he chewed, he turned his attention to the TV where the forecaster was talking about the upcoming weather. There were warnings of snow storms and potential disruption to travel. Perhaps it was a good thing he was staying on for an extra night.
3
When Lydia’s alarm went off at 6 am the next morning, she felt like she’d only just fallen asleep. After she’d spoken to Jacinta, Megan called, stressing about cake stands and bawling her out again for leaving all the work to her. She had wasted a good few hours on the Internet, desperately searching for pearl-themed cake stands that didn’t cost the earth. Apparently, there was a gap in the market.
Lydia pulled back the curtains and her mouth fell open at the blanket of snow that had fallen overnight. She didn’t remember snow like that ever. When she was young, the most they’d had usually resulted in the bus being late for school and her classmates teasing her because there was nothing where they lived.
Her phone pinged with a message.You’d better be awake and almost ready to go… Sadie Starr doesn’t wait for ANYONE!!! And I wouldn’t be awake either if I hadn’t spent most of the night in the bathroom… Go get ‘em girlie. Love ya!!! Xxxx
Jacinta. Lydia smiled. Even from the depths of her deathbed, she was there, cheering on her bestie.
The shower was amazing. Strong jets that you could switch to a massage setting, expensive shower gel—not the usual cheap crap you got in a Travelodge—that smelled good enough to eat, plus towels that were so soft and fluffy, it was like being dried by a furry animal. If she wasn’t on a tight timeline, she could have stayed there all day.
Ten minutes later, she headed down to breakfast. Dressed comfortably in black leggings and a fitted black T-shirt, with a denim shirt over the top, she wished she’d remembered to bring trainers, or at least flat shoes instead of the heeled boots she had. Thankfully, she wouldn’t have far to walk when Stewart picked her up at 6:45 am sharp. He would be waiting right outside the door.
The waiter showed her to a table and gave her the menu. A full English with heaps of toast was extremely tempting, but shoot day usually meant sandwiches, pastries, pizzas, cake…pretty much everything that was on the unhealthier end of the menu.
“Can I have the poached eggs on toast?” She sighed, passing the menu back to him. “And a pot of black coffee?”
“Of course, madam, it will be right with you.” He gave her a polite smile and walked to the kitchen.
Lydia studied his retreating form. He was probably about the same age as her, with black hair and a cute arse that was showcased in his slightly too tight uniform trousers. She shook her head. What was she thinking? It was a big day for her today, a possible career-making shoot and here she was fantasising about a waiter. She scrolled through her social media while she waited, reading all the horror stories of snow and ice and travel disruptions. Her flight that evening was at half-seven, so there was every chance that the snow would have gone by then. Then she would be back at Megan’s beck and call, for the next couple of days, until the party.
She smelled the eggs before they arrived. As she looked up, she noticed that the guy, who had been behind her in the check-in queue, the previous evening, was waiting to be seated. His eyes scanned the room before settling on her and she thought she saw the corner of his mouth quirk up. He was dressed more casually today—dark blue jeans and a black, polo shirt. Not for the first time she wondered what he was doing there. Maybe he was on a golfing trip or something, although it wouldn’t exactly be the weather for it.
The waiter deposited the plate in front of her, placing the cafetière in the centre of the table. “Can I get you anything else?”
Lydia shook her head. “That’s lovely, thank you.” She ground a little pepper over the eggs and watched as the waiter directed the man to the table next to hers, so he was practically sitting right beside her. Suddenly, she was super self-conscious as she shovelled her food into her mouth, very aware of him watching her. He ordered the full English and her jealousy peaked.
