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The Office Christmas Party: A fun, feel good Christmas cracker of a romance!
Aimee Duffy
Natalie Taylor and Dean Fletcher are serial Christmas party crashers. But when they start crashing the same parties…the mittens come off and the sparks fly!As much as she loves Christmas, after her mother’s death, events planner Nat can’t face the jolly season anymore. So to get her festive hit she crashes everyone else’s party. It’s a sweet gig, until she meets her competition, tech empire millionaire, Dean, under the mistletoe…!When it comes to relationships, Dean doesn’t do serious—being left at the altar will do that to a guy. So when he meets feisty Nat, the first woman in ten years to pique his interest, he’s tempted to break his one-night rule…just for the holidays!Nat and Dean might get more than they bargained for in their stockings this Christmas!



The Office Christmas Party
AIMÉE DUFFY


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HarperImpulse
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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017
Copyright © Aimée Duffy 2017
Cover images © Shutterstock.com (https://www.shutterstock.com)
Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2017
Aimée Duffy asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
Source ISBN:9780008197285
Ebook Edition © November 2017 ISBN: 9780008197254
Version: 2017-10-09
Table of Contents
Cover (#u2834fc47-fffa-5def-929d-36f79f7d1fde)
Title Page (#ub7251162-5b61-5aaf-961d-e5b3e6208bef)
Copyright (#uf07d919a-1f32-53fa-932c-d7fabfbaae99)
Chapter 1 (#uabd40cc3-1e3a-544b-ad55-b5dd66a07ce1)
Chapter 2 (#u4a21ebf7-f154-598e-bce3-75920bd67ff2)
Chapter 3 (#u3a717d58-fa98-5cfc-858d-51c913a7f883)
Chapter 4 (#ubcb05841-cd27-5644-93e5-51490b59781e)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by Aimée Duffy (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

About HarperImpulse (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 1 (#u68f2b24d-998a-5e13-a01b-1f20d8d3c703)
December was, without a doubt, Natalie Taylor’s favourite month. She didn’t care much for the cold, or the way the London pavements turned so slick and slippery that wearing heels was just as dangerous as taking a dip in the Thames. She wasn’t even a fan of the icy winds or the way the snow stained her favourite boots with hideous white rings she could never cover with leather polish, no matter how many bottles of the stuff she used.
But the evenings were a different story. Tonight, she’d found the perfect way to kick off the month in style.
Trudging up the steps, she pulled a piece of paper from her handbag, then reached for the door of her the flat she shared with her best friend. The smell of cinnamon swirls and baked apples filled her nose and her stomach growled. Just another reason she loved her flatmate. The woman had one of the best bakeries in the city and always let Natalie try her new cakes before she sold them in the shop.
And if the saliva pooling in her mouth was any indication, Rose was switching to her Christmas recipes.
Once inside she tried to ignore the rising growl in her stomach and ditched her keys in the bowl next to Rose’s. She headed straight for the kitchen, the piece of paper ready to be shoved into her best friend’s face, but froze at the alcove leading to the living room. Rose wasn’t alone, and was feeding what looked like a slab of a cinnamon swirl to her boyfriend of almost a year, Tom.
‘Hey Nat, there’s more in the kitchen if you’re hungry,’ Rose said, smiling.
Natalie went for a slice of cake and returned with a plate filled with a bit of everything, even the soft apple bakes she’d smelled earlier. She sat down on the coffee table and dropped the sheet of paper she’d been so excited to show Rose. Of course, if Tom was here for the night, that was it for her carefully planned evening.
That man could suck all the fun out of life.
‘These are amazing,’ Natalie said through a mouthful of the crumbly apple soft bakes.
Tom nodded his agreement as he popped another cinnamon swirl in his mouth. He didn’t say much, but when he did it always made her friend’s whole face light up. Natalie couldn’t really see his appeal. He had thick auburn hair and flawless skin but he wasn’t really her type. He was slim in a tall, almost gangly way.
Oh, and ever since he came on the scene, there’d been no more Saturday nights checking out local up-and-coming bands, or Sundays lying in bed with Rose recovering from the night before by eating so many cakes that they spent their Mondays on a sugar crash.
Shaking her head, she smothered the twinge of jealousy. It wasn’t nice to be thinking about her friend’s boyfriend that way, even if he was as dull as dishwater. She couldn’t feel annoyed at him just because he was there when she’d happened to have plans for her and Rose.
But she could stay hopeful that Tom was only staying to taste Rose’s new recipes then leaving …
‘How was work today?’ Rose asked.
‘Good, we’re booked up well into the new year.’ She’d spent all day planning the most exquisite parties her clients had ever seen, but of course the clients didn’t know she existed. Her boss, Mick the Dick, was the one who took the credit and pocketed all the profits, whether he spent his office hours at the driving range or not.
Natalie glanced at the sheet of paper with a list of some of the best parties to be at this December and sighed.
‘What’s that?’ Rose asked and before Natalie could answer, her friend swiped the sheet off the table.
‘Um,’ Natalie eyed Tom warily as he leaned over to read the list.
He looked up and turned to frown at her. ‘You can’t be serious?’
His pissed tone got her back up. Natalie folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. ‘Why not?’
‘Nat,’ Rose interrupted. ‘I can’t do tonight. Tom’s taking me out.’
So he wasn’t just there to taste test. Natalie was ready to bet he’d suspected they’d be out on the town again, going from party to party and having actual fun. After all, that’s how Rose had met him in the first place.
As for what her friend actually saw in him, Natalie didn’t know. He put the bore in boring.
Rose sighed. ‘Mode was great last year.’
Tom took her hand and rubbed his thumb over the back, then said smoothly with just a tiny hint of pain in his eyes, ‘I thought you’d stop this now we’re together. Or were you hoping to meet someone else?’
Natalie didn’t buy the false slice of hurt in his tone. He was using that to make Rose feel guilty for wanting to enjoy herself. And she’d long since given up trying to tell her friend she was being emotionally manipulated. It only ever ended in an argument, with Rose saying Natalie didn’t know how good a guy he was, and how kind and loyal and blah blah blah he was.
Rose’s chin dropped for a second. ‘Of course not, Tom. It’s just—’
‘Then there’s no need to discuss it further.’ He took the list from her and handed it back to Natalie, saying, ‘I can’t believe you use your work connections to find parties to crash. It’s ridiculous and completely immature.’
Natalie gritted her teeth before her temper could erupt with a string of insults. See, she could be mature.
‘Tom, stop it,’ Rose begged.
He just continued to stare at Natalie, as if he expected her to leave. And although she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, she didn’t want to see Rose torn between them either. Taking her list, she went to her bedroom without a word.
Well, maybe not out loud, anyway. The words boring, rude and twat rolled around her skull all the way there.
If he didn’t make Rose happier than Natalie had ever seen her, she’d have told him exactly how much of an arse he really was, and then some.
Instead she dumped her handbag and fell onto her bed. So much for the perfect month of partying. With Tom around, she doubted she’d ever be able to get out with Rose on a normal night. But it had been like that for months, now, hadn’t it?
She mentally cursed him, but then let it go with a sigh. Her epic dislike of Tom could also have something to do with how jealous she was that he was monopolizing so much of her best friend’s time. Maybe he was genuinely hurt at the idea of Rose going out and flirting with other men.
Or maybe he was a bastard to the core.
Rose came into the room and closed the door behind her. She looked so worried Natalie had to force a smile to reassure her.
‘Maybe he’s right, Nat. I mean about the crashing thing. It was fun, but things have changed. And if you get caught, you could lose your job.’ She sat down on the side of the bed, patting Natalie’s hand.
So Tom had given Rose another excuse for not wanting her to go. He knew just how to pull at her friend’s heartstrings. Of course, Rose was so lovely she wouldn’t do anything that would potentially hurt anyone.
He was looking more and more like a bastard all the time.
‘I don’t just want to do this, Rose, I need to.’ Natalie shook the piece of paper at her friend. ‘You know why.’
‘Maybe this year could be different. We could do Christmas properly, start our own traditions.’
‘Christmas party crashing is our tradition!’ And the thought of celebrating on the 25th made her sick to the point she was sure the apple soft bakes were going to take a return trip. She couldn’t, she just … couldn’t.
Rose must have noticed, because she back tracked. ‘Or maybe I could talk to Tom again. He might feel better about it all if he came with us,’ she said, not looking hopeful.
Natalie wasn’t either. Tom had a weird emotional hold over her friend and he was clearly not thrilled at the idea of them going out together at all, never mind for a whole month straight. She got the awful feeling that she was losing her only friend, that soon she’d be alone again, as alone as she was when she met Rose three years ago.
And whether it was to Tom or something else, Natalie would have to deal with losing Rose eventually so there was only one thing she could do – get used to it.
Just because she couldn’t celebrate Christmas day without guilt choking her, didn’t mean she had to stop enjoying the season. And she’d leaned on Rose for so long, she was almost an acting crutch.
Plus, if she wanted to save enough to start her own business then she wasn’t going to turn down a chance of free food and drink for a month. Sitting up, she resolved to go solo.
‘Are you okay?’ Rose asked.
Natalie nodded, realising she really was. ‘I’m going to Mode tonight, alone.’ At Rose’s horrified expression, she added, ‘It’ll be fine, really. I’ll be home before midnight. Promise.’
***
The private club was decked out exactly how Natalie envisioned Christmas as a child. Silky white sheets trimmed in silver sequences dressed tables around the edges, fairy lights elegantly covered the walls and the ceilings, while the arches leading to the dancefloor were twined with holly and had tiny tea lights throughout. She’d done an amazing job, even if she did say so herself.
This was what she loved about December – all the glitz, sparkle and magic – even though she had to face icy wind and freezing rain to get there. But the atmosphere was so warm and full of joy she barely paid attention to her numb feet.
The place was packed already, with women wearing glittering red and gold gowns. The men wore slick suits with festive ties, reminding her of the cartoon reindeer ones her mum always bought her dad when she was little.
The memories were warmer now, not tinged with sadness, maybe because enough time had passed. More than likely it was because, officially, she was there as Nicole Porter the Temp tonight, not Natalie Taylor, the girl who had planned this party right down to the gourmet buffet being set up in the far corner. Separating herself made all the difference. Nicole didn’t have guilt or sadness, just a love of all things Christmassy.
Tom was right about one thing though; if Mick the Dick knew about her extracurricular activities his face would be a picture and he would probably sack her on the spot.
She’d turned his company into the first point of contact in the city if you wanted a party, especially during the holiday season. What thanks had she gotten for her hard work that first year? Nothing except a ton of overtime with no extra cash in her wages that month, or any month since. This was her way of getting something for herself out of it. And for Rose. But Rose wasn’t with her this time.
She squished down the pang of sadness and accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. Determined to make the most of it, she headed towards the buffet table and grabbed a plate. A few men had already gathered and were stocking up on miniature mince pies, but it wasn’t the cakes or pastries she was after – nobody’s compared to Rose’s. Instead she filled her plate with the cold food that wouldn’t spoil easily, leaving the seafood nibbles for her next trip to the table.
When nothing else could fit on her plate without tumbling off, she made her way to an empty table at the back and filled the food bags she’d brought with her, stuffing her stash into her handbag.
When she looked up she caught the dark gaze of a guy across the room. He lifted one eyebrow, nodding to her bag and her cheeks flushed.
Busted.
But the guy just smiled a little mockingly, shook his head in amusement, and picked up a glass of champagne. No doubt Mr Perfect, in his expensively cut navy suit, wouldn’t need to stock up on free food to save a penny or two. And going by his broad shoulders and slightly muscled forearms hugged deliciously by the suit, he ate very well.
She waited for him to wave over security, or maybe even a waiter, but all he did was eye her from her silver pumps, all the way to the sequinned neckline of her royal blue dress. He lingered on her chest and she told herself that the increase in her heartrate was down to the stress of almost getting caught plundering, or maybe even indignation caused by the way he was ogling her.
He took another sip of champagne, then winked and she felt her cheeks heat up again. But not from embarrassment.
Now that she was reassured he wasn’t going to come barrelling over and chuck her out, she took a moment to really look at him.
His jaw was dusted with dark hair, black or maybe dark brown. He was lightly tanned, either a sunbed lover or he’d just come back from abroad. The answer to that didn’t matter though, because she and Rose had rules for successful party crashing and right at the top of the list was Do Not Get Personal With Anyone.
And she’d seen first-hand how important that was after Rose met Tom. Her friend had broken that rule, but kept her alter ego. Rachel the Assistant aka Rose had also gone on to break rule number two – Do Not See Anyone More Than Once.
Nicole the Temp didn’t want to see this guy more than once, or find out about his golden glow. She did, however, want to wipe that grin off his face – maybe with some time under the mistletoe or a little indecent grinding on the dancefloor.
And given his unashamed appraisal followed by a wink that suggested he liked what he saw, she guessed he was only interested in much of the same.
Deciding to take the lead, she got up but another man appeared in front of her, blocking the way.
‘Hi, I’m Mark, have we met before?’ he asked, holding out his hand.
Natalie took the offer and shook back. ‘I don’t think so. I’ve just started as a temp. I’m Nicole.’
Mark wasn’t so bad. He was a little thinner than the other guy with the mocking grin, clean shaven and had thick, blonde hair, a little darker than hers. No tan either, but he was quite hot.
‘Ah, I heard they got temps in to update the new systems,’ Mark said, interrupting her evaluation. ‘How are your fingers from all that data entry?’ He pretended to wince, and she smiled.
Feigning stiffness, she clenched her fingers a few times. ‘It’s touch and go.’
‘Well, maybe this will help.’ Mark waived over a waiter and then handed her a fresh glass of champagne.
He pulled out a chair for her, assuming she’d sit with him now and she couldn’t help looking over for the guy who saw her plundering, but his attention was on a pretty, petite redhead who seemed to not only be hanging off his arm, but on his every word.
Well, it looked like that ship had sailed.
She took the lead from Mr Perfect and slid into the offered chair with a flirty smile for Mark, trying to steer the conversation away from work or anything personal. He seemed keen to find out more about her, probably to make her feel more comfortable in her new job, so she went with her rehearsed and fabricated backstory.
This was the part Rose always hated, which was why she’d probably told mostly the truth when she’d met Tom.
Natalie held back a sigh. The worry in her friend’s eyes when she left just reminded Natalie of her own worry that she was going to lose her best friend. The feeling of impending doom weighed heavily on her so much so she had to concentrate to keep up with the conversation.
Perhaps because of that, or because of the five glasses of champagne she drank on an empty stomach, but she found herself saying to Mark, ‘Let’s dance.’
Sliding her bag under the sparkly trimmed tablecloth, she took his hand and he led her to the dancefloor. The live band playing Christmas music made it hard to navigate through all the bodies that seemed to have the same idea.
Little bouquets of mistletoe were strung from the ceiling directly above them and she tugged Mark beneath one, looking up, then at him expectantly. A knowing smile pulled at his full lips before he bent down and brushed them against hers.
The kiss was nice, slow and building, but not the sort she read about in books that turned her body into a furnace and buckled her knees. A long time ago, she’d resolved that fiction was not real life, people didn’t always get happy-ever-afters and a pair of strong hands holding her up as she clung to muscled biceps with a desperate sort of passion was not in the cards for her, maybe not anyone.
But she tried harder to feel more, feel something, throwing everything into the kiss and twisting her fingers through his thick, silky hair. Mark returned her enthusiasm, prying her mouth open with a swipe of his tongue, tangling it with hers. A familiar warmth in the pit of her stomach bloomed and she was about to suggest they find somewhere more private, but it was Mark who broke away first.
‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to maul you like that,’ he said, sounding shocked at himself.
‘It’s okay, I don’t mind being mauled by you.’ Which was true. He was a nice guy and she was single. What was the harm in having a little fun? Especially since she was just getting into it.
Someone knocked her forward, into Mark’s arms and she bumped against the growing bulge in his pants, a reminder of what she’d been hoping for. A little bit of passion, even if it seemed to mostly be on his part. But she was definitely getting there.
Mark swallowed hard. ‘Let’s get off this dancefloor and talk.’
What warmth she felt sizzled out. He was really a nice guy – probably wanted to take her out on a date or ten before there would be any more heated kisses. Which would breach her second rule and be her cue to leave.
When they were back at their table with a fresh glass of champagne each, she discreetly pulled her handbag out from under the table.
‘Nicole, look. I really like you. How about we do this another time, without everyone we work with gaping at us?’
‘Definitely,’ she lied, feeling stupid more than anything. Was she so desperate for a connection with someone tonight she just threw herself at him? He was hot, but a one-night stand was something she’d only done a few times. And she’d only done them with men she’d felt at least a little lust for, not just the warm and fuzzies. ‘Could you excuse me? I need to go to the ladies’ room.’
‘Yeah, of course. They’re over there,’ he said, pointing to the entrance and, luckily for her, the exit too.
She grabbed her bag and made a beeline for the front of the building, feeling annoyed at herself for not realising Mark was one of the few gentlemen left in the city. Holding her chair out for her and asking her questions about herself should have told her everything she needed to know. And he’d only kissed her so intensely because she’d pushed for it.
As soon as she got out into the hall, the redhead she’d seen earlier darted out of the men’s bathroom looking flushed with her hair all over the place and her dress ruffled up one side. She smacked straight into Natalie, knocking them both off balance Natalie had to drop her bag to catch herself on the wall. The other woman’s face went from flushed to scarlet.
‘Oh my god! I’m so sorry. Let me help with this.’
Before Natalie could think or breathe, the woman picked up her bag and handed it over. ‘Are you okay? I should have looked where I was going.’
Natalie took the bag and shook her head to clear it. ‘I’m fine.’
She was about to ask what the woman was doing coming out of the men’s room, when she saw the guy who’d caught her stuffing her bag with canapés coming out of the same door, pressing his lips together as if to keep from laughing at the spectacle before him.
Right, that answered that question. And to think, if Mark hadn’t side-tracked her, she might be the one looking like she’d been thoroughly attended to, not the redhead.
‘Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude,’ the redhead said wrinkling her nose, ‘but did you know you smell a bit beefy?’
A laugh erupted from the bastard still standing at the door to the men’s room, quickly dousing any fantasies Natalie had of having switched places with the redhead. She glared first at the redhead, then him and stalked out of Mode with her chin up. Her exit only seemed to make him laugh louder and her face burned so hot she must be puce by now. Her only saving grace was that she’d never have to set eyes on either of them again.
As Natalie hailed a taxi, she vowed her next solo party crash would not be an embarrassing shambles. There was no way tonight could possibly get any worse, at least.
At home, she spread her plunder on the coffee table and was about halfway through when the front door opened. Rose’s cheeks were tear stained, like she’d been crying. Natalie stood and whirled on Tom, about to give him hell for hurting her friend when Rose stuck her left hand, palm down, in front of Natalie’s face.
The diamond set in a bed of sapphires on her friend’s ring finger was Natalie’s worst nightmare come to life.
‘Nat, I’m engaged! Tom and I are getting married!’ Rose said with tears of joy streaming down her face.
Well, that would teach her for stupidly thinking the night couldn’t get any worse.
A cold sweat broke out over her skin and what little she’d eaten of her plunder made a bid for freedom. ‘I’m going to be sick,’ she announced, then clapped her hand over her mouth bolted for the bathroom.
After, she lay with her head on the cold tiles of the floor, gripped with terror that she would soon be alone, really alone for the first time in years.

Chapter 2 (#u68f2b24d-998a-5e13-a01b-1f20d8d3c703)
Two nights later, Dean Fletcher had just finished up for the weekend when his younger brother came into his office, closing the door behind him.
Well, he’d hoped he’d finished up, but Jeffrey had a panicked, jittery look that meant either a deal had gone bad or one of their systems had failed. ‘Spit it out, Jeff. I’m running late as it is.’
But his brother didn’t speak, he just paced back and forth in front of Dean’s desk.
‘What’s happened?’ he asked, pulling his laptop open and switching it on with a sigh.
‘It’s not work. Christ, I don’t know how to say this.’ Jeffrey stared at Dean with undisguised pity and his stomach took a nose dive.
There was only one other time his brother had looked at him this way – the day Dean had been jilted at his own wedding. But that was ten years ago, he was only a teenager and was so not about to rehash a past he’d long since buried. If Jeffrey wanted to bring up his personal life, Dean wasn’t having any of it – his dates were his business.
Not that he actually dated, it was more a string of flings throughout the year. Nothing serious, just a bit of fun here and there and the women were into it, so why not? It hadn’t been a problem until his brother had met Alana a few years ago, then he’d lost his wingman and gained a giant pain in the arse.
‘That’s not what I was going to say either! I was going to work up to this better but since you’re apparently incapable of patience, here goes. I’m going to ask Alana to marry me.’
Dean’s chin dropped, he couldn’t help it. His brother had seen first-hand how badly a wedding could turn out. In fact, after he was dumped on his special day, his family had blamed him. Jeffrey was the only relative who still spoke to him without contempt.
Jeffrey sighed. ‘Shit, Dean. Nobody died.’
‘Not yet,’ Dean said, then ran his hands through his hair. ‘What brought this on? I mean, after what happened to me, I thought you’d have learned the same lesson I did.’
That women were never what they seemed. They told you they loved you one minute, then ran away at the thought of spending the rest of their lives with you. Of course, now he could see that he’d dodged a bullet, but it had taken him a long time to realize that. And Jeffrey wasn’t made of the same steel he was. His brother had chased Alana around the city for months like a puppy before she’d agreed to date him.
Jeffrey rolled his eyes. ‘Love. You might want to hang around long enough to try it some time. You know, Alana’s friend is single and—’
‘I’m not interested. Now back to this proposal, are you insane? Did Mum drop you on your head as a baby? Have you forgotten everything that happened?’ He hated dragging up the past, but a reminder of his own ridicule might knock some sense into his brother.
‘Alana isn’t her. If she doesn’t want to marry me, she’ll say no.’ Jeffrey started pacing again and the wild look was back in his eyes. ‘Shit, what if she says no?’
If Dean had ever worried that he was missing out on something by refusing to commit to a relationship, he didn’t now. Over the two years Jeffrey had been dating Alana, his balls had shrunk to pips and now it finally looked like they’d disintegrated.
‘Then why bother asking?’
The look Jeffrey threw his way made him feel like an arse, but he wasn’t about to apologise. Not when his brother was being an idiot.
‘I knew you’d be a knob about this. I don’t know why I bothered coming to you first.’
‘Because you knew I’d tell you what a complete tool you’re being and talk some sense into you,’ Dean said, getting tired of this fight already.
‘Fuck you, Dean. Seriously.’ Jeffrey headed for the door and threw it open. He didn’t walk through it, not until he said, ‘While you’re out tonight with a woman you’ll have forgotten the name of next week, I’ll be home with someone I love and want to spend the rest of my life with. Whether you’re terrified of having that again or just going for the world record title of sluttiest man alive, one day you’re going to realize life’s passed you by in a blur of anonymous sex. I don’t want that for you.’
Jeffrey slammed the door, so he could have the last word, as usual. Dean clenched his teeth. What the hell did his brother know anyway? One serious girlfriend and he was now a relationship guru?
Yeah, right.
Dean closed his laptop, grabbed his keys and headed for the door. He was perfectly happy passing through life on his own terms – it had nothing to do with fear – and tonight he was going to do exactly that.
***
The party tonight had a guest list but he wasn’t worried, instead he strolled right up to the bouncer manning the door to the hottest bar in Soho and used the name he’d planted there earlier.
Having their own IT company who supplied the booking software to most of London’s hotels, restaurants and bars did more than just make them money. Jeffrey had come up with the idea of using it to get into all these swanky events a few years ago when they were just getting off the ground and what had turned into a few cheap nights out ended as a great way to score those anonymous flings his brother had recently started to frown upon.
But he really wasn’t in the mood for thinking about his brother at all, so he headed straight for the bar to take advantage of the flowing champagne. When he wound his way through the tightly packed crowd he changed his mind and ordered a scotch. Bubbly just wasn’t going to cut it tonight.
He’d missed the wine and dine portion of the evening thanks to Jeffrey and his stupid arsed ideas. On the plus side, every woman there was already half-inebriated. As he downed the scotch in one go, he welcomed the burn before taking an interested glance round the crowd.
Most of the women looked like they were from the cast of TOWIE, with boobs spilling over low necklines, unnaturally long lashes and wearing more make-up than you’d find at the Mac counter at Selfridges.
And to add insult to his already shitty mood, the same words kept playing on a loop in his head.
Whether you’re terrified of having that again or just going for the world record title of sluttiest man alive, one day you’re going to realize life’s passed you by in a blur of anonymous sex. I don’t want that for you.
Fucking Jeffrey. Until tonight, he hadn’t thought twice about what he was doing. And until Alana came on the scene, neither had his brother.
In fact, December was their favourite month for crashing parties. The venues were always packed with women looking to have some anonymous festive fun. He usually enjoyed the atmosphere and he was not about to let his brother ruin this for him. So he ordered another scotch and got serious about his surveying.
Until he saw a familiar blonde food thief. She wasn’t in that slinky short dress tonight, but a pale gold one that hugged her hips and chest even more. And she was staring at him too, with something close to rage burning in her pretty blue eyes.
He couldn’t help the way his lips curved when he remembered what happened the last time they met. It only made her eyes burn hotter and her cheekbones score pink.
But then it hit him. How could she be at two Christmas parties for totally different firms? Unless she had organised the parties. Although he doubted she’d be stealing the food if she had.
So she must be crashing too, just like him. But what his little thief didn’t know was that this was his turf, and two independent crashers in a place this small was going to draw attention, then the jig would be up.
Dean knocked back the scotch and headed her way. It was about time for a proper introduction.
***
Just as Natalie thought her week couldn’t get any worse, Mr Perfect with that smug smile and another expertly cut, expensive looking suit made his way through the crowd to her. She still hadn’t gotten over their last encounter when he’d laughed his head off after his floozy had caught a whiff of her stash.
And with Tom and Rose spending every night together at the flat with that sickly, loved-up couple thing they had going on, she realized that soon they’d either ask her to move out or she’d end up the oldest, rustiest third wheel that ever existed. She couldn’t imagine them moving to Tom’s rental when Rose’s parents had bought her the flat.
But worst of all, Rose had asked her to be the maid of honour, and how could she say no to her best friend because she didn’t think Tom was good enough? She wasn’t a complete bitch. No way would she have ruined her friend’s special night. Natalie was just grateful that, despite the fact she’d planned a dozen or so stellar weddings, Tom was so much of a control freak he’d want to organise it himself.
She really didn’t think she’d have been able to deal with it if she’d been assigned the wedding planner role. At least now all she had to worry about was the actual day and she could avoid Tom as much as possible until then.
So, business as usual.
‘That doesn’t look big enough to hide ten pounds of beef hors d’oeuvres.’
Natalie looked up to catch a glimpse of Mr Perfect’s smug grin. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
Of course she did, but she had known tonight that meals would be served and she couldn’t exactly stuff slices of turkey, stuffing balls and roast potatoes all swimming in gravy into her handbag. Especially not when there were thirty or so other people at the table.
‘Oh I think you do. And I know what your game is,’ he said, suffocating her personal space with his Lynx effect cologne and his massive-up-close body.
‘I don’t play games.’ Now run off and annoy someone else.
He laughed a little, and the sound just wound her up again.
‘You’re obviously new to this, but I could tell what you are a mile off. Just a head’s up, this area is my turf and two strangers at a party this small will get noticed,’ he said.
What she was? Like she was some desperate, starving cow who crashed parties without a cover or having done her research? ‘You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about and anyway, I didn’t see you pee on the walls so what makes you think this bar belongs to you?’
That got the grin off his face. Natalie smiled as sweetly as she could, then stood up and shoved past him. ‘If you’re so worried about being caught, the door’s that way.’ She gestured with her thumb over her shoulder. ‘I’d say I’d miss you, but …’
With that she slinked away from him, swept up a free glass of champagne, necked it and headed for the dancefloor. She melded into a group of guys and girls effortlessly, the people were too drunk to ask any questions. They were all about the dancing and rounds of shots were brought over, so she helped herself to a few of those too.
The bastard didn’t leave, just skulked at the bar with a glass of something brown – not that she was looking out for him. And what was all that rubbish about strangers getting noticed? There were a good thirty people at the party – not to mention the bar was now open to the public after the meal – and the vast majority were smashed. Natalie doubted they’d notice the arrival of the entire Manchester United football team at this point.
As she tried not to get angry at Mr Smug Bastard, the hottie she’d sat next to at dinner joined her on the dancefloor.
Steven twirled her around and around, and her anger melted into giggles. A few shots later and she was ready to show him some of her more indecent dance moves to Santa Baby.
This was what she’d been waiting for all year, she thought as she was swung around again, laughing along with Steven. This happy, mirthful, floaty feeling surrounded by sparkly decorations in a room bursting with festive cheer.
***
A loud snore against her ear snapped Natalie into consciousness. She was too warm, her skin had a thin sheen of sweat all over and she realized the problem as her ribs were constricted by a manly forearm, and her bum was pressed against a whole lot of naked groin.
And how did she know it was a groin? Because her underwear was gone along with the rest of her clothes. Crap.
Unfortunately, the hazy drunken memory sharpened with crystal clarity and she remembered agreeing to go home with Steven, breaking rule number three. No Going Home With Anyone. It was a must if you wanted to stick to rules one and two. Not to mention the whole potential serial killer issue.
At least he sounded dead to the world. If she was quiet enough, she might be able to get out before the sun rose and brought questions she didn’t want to answer. Not that she could remember him being that interested in who she was last night, but the lack of alcohol and a strange woman in his bed might make Steven a bit more courteous.
Carefully she slid out of his hold, wishing the pounding of her heart wasn’t so loud in her ears, but a quick glance over her shoulder told her he was still asleep. Steven was definitely a looker with his light brown hair ruffled from, well, probably her fingers grabbing onto it. And he had a lovely jaw line that was as smooth as a baby’s, so thankfully stubble burn wasn’t going to be an issue. He didn’t look much older than her in sleep, but he probably had a good few years on her.
Still, one-nighters were supposed to be confined to impersonal places. To come back to his house, alone, was crazy. Rose would go bananas if she knew. Though, she realized with a twist in her gut, her friend might just be relieved she wasn’t at the flat getting in the way of all the romance.
Shaking off the thought, she re-focused on an escape route and climbed out of the bed. A sharp pain cut into her foot and she hissed a chorus of ows as she plonked back down. Rubbing the sole, she glared at the belt buckle on the floor then froze as the snoring cut off on a grunt.
Behind her, Steven rolled onto his stomach and reached an arm out, grumbling in his sleep. Dodging out of the way, she was careful not to stand on the buckle again, and tried to remember where her clothes were. She spied silver lace peeking out from beneath a shirt which was abandoned by the door and flushed remembering how those had gotten there.
Natalie swiped up her bra, hooked it on, then snuck out into the hall. Her knickers were by his bedroom door and this time she didn’t let herself remember how those ended up there. Instead she just pulled them on and went on the hunt for the rest of her things.
In the living room she spotted her lovely gold dress, just dumped on the coffee table half balled up and so wrinkled she wanted to kick herself. Not only did it cost more than she made in a month, but it was the most festive dress she owned. She examined it carefully but there were no tears she could see, it just badly needed ironing.
She turned on a lamp and the room illuminated. Everything became clear from the empty beer cans in the corner to the half-eaten kebab on the arm of a tatty looking green sofa. A total bachelor pad, sans class. Fabulous, she’d gone home with a slob.
A shuffle sounded behind her. With her heart in her throat she spun around to see a guy who was not Steven wearing nothing but his boxers. His frown turned to an astonished blink, then he gave her a good once over. Even with the underwear, she felt utterly naked, so pulled the dress against her front.
As her cheeks burned, she remembered thinking the week from hell could never, ever get any worse. She really needed to stop thinking that because it seemed like fate was really into poking her repeatedly with a sharp, pointy spear of shame.
And she needed to get dressed. Like right now.
‘Hey, you here with Steven?’ the guy asked.
Who else would she be here with? Then she had a horrible thought that maybe there would be others who lived there. Others who would catch her mortifying floor show.
‘Yes. I’m just leaving,’ she said, turning around and pulling her dress over her head. ‘Have you seen a black clutch anywhere?’
Might as well put his eyes to use and take some of the heat off her.
‘Oh, yeah, here.’ He picked up something from the sofa, screwing up his nose. ‘Sorry, I think it landed in hot sauce.’
Natalie let out a whimper as she took her brand spanking new clutch, pulling a strip of saucy donner meat out of the folds. She had to get out of there, like, now.
‘Why not stay ‘til morning? I’m sure Steven wouldn’t want you walking the streets in the middle of the night.’
She didn’t know if this was just a nice guy, or if the distress was showing on her face and he felt sorry for her, but she’d had about as much as she could stand of embarrassment for one evening, so she shook her head. ‘I’ll get a taxi.’
Without making eye contact or waiting for him to say anything else, Natalie bolted out the door. Maybe Rose was right, maybe she needed to rethink the whole celebrating Christmas properly thing.
She hailed a taxi, but didn’t go home. Instead she recited the address of a block of storage units she’d not been to in ages, determined to face the contents and her past so she could finally – hopefully – move on.

Chapter 3 (#u68f2b24d-998a-5e13-a01b-1f20d8d3c703)
Natalie’s head was pounding as she woke to the chorus of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer echoing through her skull.
She fumbled for her mobile and answered, not bothering to open her eyes. Her head wasn’t ready for that yet.
‘Hello?’ she croaked.
‘Where are you? Do you know how worried I’ve been?’
Rose’s voice was like knives in her ears and she had to hold the phone away to listen. As she opened her eyes, she saw why her friend was flipping out. Natalie was lying on a sofa she hadn’t seen in years, wrapped in a dust sheet and surrounded by boxes.
Boxes of her mum’s stuff.
‘I’m fine, Rose.’ But that wasn’t true. The pain of her headache was smothered by the agony in her chest. Coming here had seemed like a good idea last night, a way to move on with her life, but she hadn’t even been able to face looking inside one box.
‘Natalie Taylor, I have been up all night terrified something happened to you. I’ve called you a hundred times along with every hospital in London! I even called the police. Do you know what they said? You’re not a missing person until you’ve been gone longer. What if you had been stabbed and were lying in a ditch somewhere or fell into the river!’
Tears filled her eyes and clogged her throat. What had made her think Rose wouldn’t care where she was? ‘I’m sorry Rose, I’m so selfish. You didn’t need to worry, I was—’ Admitting she went home with a stranger was not likely to ease any of her friend’s worry, so she decided to skip that bit. ‘I’m at the storage unit. I came here to try and … I don’t know why. But I wish I hadn’t.’
She caught sight of one of the boxes. It was bursting with every colour of tinsel in existence and the tears spilled over. ‘I should have come home. I’m sorry.’
‘Nat … What’s up with you lately? Something’s wrong and we’re going to make time to talk about it. I might be getting married, but you’re still my best friend and I feel like I haven’t been there for you this last week. I know how hard this time of year is for you.’
Rose’s sudden concern made her feel like a rotten cow. She wanted so much to tell her friend everything, but she had to stop being so dependent on Rose. Besides, the truth would only cause friction with her friend’s new fiancé. ‘I’ll be okay, I promise. I’m coming home now for a hot bath and something to eat.’
‘Do you need me to come and get you? I can make it before the lunch rush,’ Rose offered.
‘No, it’s fine. The fresh air will be good for me.’ Or the freezing breeze would kill her, but she couldn’t face Rose like this. It would be too easy to slip back into leaning on her friend.
‘If you’re sure. But I’m telling Tom it’s girls’ night tonight. You and I are going to talk. I’ll bring the wine and we can get a takeaway.’
Wine was the last thing she needed, but it would be nice to have some girl time. ‘Okay, that sounds good. See you later.’
Natalie hung up and slipped her phone into her bag. The walls felt like they were coming in on her and her heart was going double time. After carefully rearranging the dust sheet over the sofa, she bolted for the door without looking at anything. Outside, she slid down to the ground, panting like she’d just sprinted a mile.
One thing was for sure, she wasn’t ready to unpack those boxes, but she didn’t want to give up on Christmas either. Which meant she had to find a way to deal with solo Christmas party-crashing that didn’t end in total disaster.
***
The girls’ night wasn’t going exactly as she’d imagined. After apologising to Rose again, they’d had Thai takeout and Natalie had eaten so much curry she thought she might explode, so changed into her Christmas themed pyjamas. She wasn’t up for the wine though, and left that to Rose who was uncharacte‌ristically knocking it back.
By the time they’d finished catching up on the television shows they’d recorded, Natalie had come to the conclusion that Rose had something she wanted to talk about too. ‘What’s going on? Is everything alright with you and Tom?’
See, she could be a good friend. She didn’t even call him Tom the Twat.
Rose shook her head. ‘It’s me, not him. I know you don’t like him, Nat, but you should give him a chance. He’s an amazing guy.’
Natalie wondered if it was worth lying and saying she did like Tom to avoid a potential argument – or eviction, but that just wasn’t her. ‘Honestly, I don’t know what you see in him. He uses your emotions to get you to do what he wants. That’s why I don’t like him.’
Rose’s mouth popped open. ‘You think he emotionally blackmails me?’
‘When it comes to you going out with me, yes, I think he does.’ She’d said this before, just never as bluntly.
‘You’re wrong, Nat. Really wrong. Tom had a hard relationship before he met me. His ex used to go out and cheat on him all the time. He gets nervous when I go out too, so I don’t anymore. I want him to know he can trust me, but he’d never stop me from doing it. It’s my choice to stay in, not his.’
At least Rose didn’t sound offended, more hurt that Natalie would think badly about her fiancé. And how crap did that make her feel? ‘You’ve never told me that before.’
Rose shrugged and poured another glass of wine. She’d still not made much of a dent in her green curry, which wasn’t like her. They both loved Thai food – in fact most food, really.
‘Is there something else going on I don’t know about? For someone who’s just gotten engaged, you seem … I don’t know, down?’ But she hadn’t been that way around Tom, which maybe meant Natalie was the problem
‘There are other things you don’t know,’ Rose said, staring down into her glass. ‘I’m not a nice person. At least I didn’t used to be. I don’t want to hurt Tom. I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again.’
Natalie shifted closer on the sofa and grabbed Rose’s hand, giving it a squeeze. ‘What are you talking about? You’re the best person I know, and that’s just for putting up with my drama alone.’
Rose’s eyes were wide and shiny as she looked up. ‘I love you, Nat. I don’t put up with you, I need you.’
‘I need you too. Talk to me, tell me what has you believing you’re anything other than lovely.’
But Rose hid her eyes and then pulled her hand free. ‘I can’t, I don’t even want to think about what I did … what I could do again. I’m going to go to bed now.’
‘Rose?’ she asked, but Rose just shook her head, leaving a pang in Natalie’s heart.
Natalie tried to tell herself that Rose’s idea of doing something terrible would be standing on a puppy’s tail by accident, and not getting it to a vet for a full check-up quickly enough, but the heavy feeling in her gut told her this was worse. All she could do was wait until Rose was ready to talk, and comfort her any way she could.
And to think, that wasn’t even the weirdest part of the evening. She was actually beginning to feel sorry for Tom, and even understand why he acted the way he did, in front of Natalie anyway.
It seemed like this was a week for firsts, and she couldn’t wait to get it over with.
***
Monday rolled around far too soon, as always, and Mick the Dick was spending a rare day in the office. Unfortunately, that meant he had just taken on a new client, which in turn meant dumping more work on her already packed desk.
After work, her day didn’t get much better. Tom had decided he wanted to get married at Christmas this year (which would mean he and Rose would be completely occupied with planning for the next few weeks), which would force Natalie to celebrate the day in a way other than staying in bed watching horror movies on DVDs with a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. Oddly, Rose’s spirits seemed at an all-time low, and though she didn’t want to leave her friend, she’d never get to talk to her properly with Tom there in full wedding planner mode.
At least he was attentive to Rose’s gloominess and seemed to be making an effort to cheer her up, which made Natalie dislike him a little less. Still, she just wanted to get away from them this evening – and luckily for her, she knew a party that needed crashing.
When she arrived at the hotel overlooking Hyde Park, she was glad she came. The party was in one of their lounges with a balcony and the view of the Winter Wonderland bustling through the park was breath-taking. Swiping a glass of mulled wine, she wrapped her poncho round her shoulders and went to get a better look.
She turned her head to the sound of footsteps on the balcony next to her and quickly wished she hadn’t. Mr Smug was there, looking none too pleased to see her but there was the edge of something else sparkling in his chocolatey eyes.
‘I suppose you’ve urinated on the boundaries here, too?’ she asked, lacing the question with as much sarcasm as she could muster.
‘I thought you might try being nice this time, Nicole. Or is that name just a cover?’
Her breath caught, and without thinking she asked, ‘How did you find that out?’
The smug smile was back and she wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
‘I just checked to see whose name kept popping up and there you were. Or there was Nicole Porter anyway. I doubt that’s the name on your birth certificate though.’ He folded his arms and waited.
But if he thought she was going to deny it, or give him the pleasure of asking how he managed to get into any of the systems, he was wrong. Instead she shrugged. ‘That’s none of your business, is it?’
‘I disagree. Like I said before, too many unfamiliar faces and people are going to start asking questions. I quite like this set up, so I’m asking you one more time to reconsider.’
She wasn’t just hearing this guy though. Mick the Dick’s demands to get one pitch after another to his desk had been driving her mad all day. What was it with pushy men thinking women were only there to do what they wanted?
Well this woman wasn’t about to bow down, especially not to someone who didn’t pay her salary – even a pathetically low one. ‘I’m not leaving any time soon so you’d better get used to it.’
She polished off the last of the mulled wine, then turned to leave but he caught her arm and dragged her around to face him again. ‘Let. Me. Go.’
He did, but didn’t back away. ‘Maybe I could let them know all about your little stunt, Nicole.’
‘You wouldn’t! I could just do the same to you.’
‘You’d never get the chance. Then again, maybe it doesn’t have to end like this with us.’ Something flickered in his eyes and her mouth dried up. ‘Maybe we could take advantage of this situation and work off the tension between us a different way.’
He pointed above her head to a bunch of mistletoe dangling from the roof of the balcony. Her heart started to hammer and she stopped breathing altogether. He couldn’t possibly be suggesting that if she didn’t snog him, or go further, then he’d have her chucked out, was he?
Rage burned away the surprise and her heart slowed to a steadier beat. ‘Not if you were the last man alive. No scrap that, the last person alive. I’d rather change my sexuality than be with a creep like you.’
He didn’t look offended, just gave her a hot look that suggested she didn’t know what she was missing and even though her stomach clenched, she refused to feel anything other than dislike for this idiot.
‘Your choice,’ he said, as she turned and stomped back into the party.
Let him try and get her chucked her out. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.
***
Dean blew out a huge breath and ran a hand down his face. What had he been thinking? He’d never tried to blackmail a woman before – he’d never had to.
After he’d looked into the previous parties, found out the name she used to get in and noticed she’d be here tonight, he’d printed out a list of restaurants and bars having added her name to the guest list of them all. That way, she could go to those instead of risking them both being caught.
It wasn’t even about having two unfamiliar faces there. He and his brother used to come to these things together all the time. But they hung out at the bar, separated themselves from most of the guests and only chatted up women who approached them.
His little thief nicked food, mingled and danced in a way that could draw the attention of every man in the room. Even his. Though that didn’t give him a pass for what he just did.
But there was something about the way she glared at him, the way she didn’t take any of his crap and fought him tooth and nail for what she wanted that triggered an insane need to spar with her. He’d seen her arriving in a cute, red dress and he’d felt the same way he had that first night.
He wanted her. There was no denying it at this point. And so, instead of offering her an alternative to showing up where he was, he delivered her an ultimatum.
Better to move on than risk any more arsehole statements coming out his mouth. A while later, he got talking with Casey, an assistant to the head of HR, which would have normally been risky. Except she never questioned his identity, and who would remember everyone’s name in a company with five offices and thousands of employees?
She wasn’t anything like his little thief either. Casey was bubbly and fun, suggesting they head to her room after they take advantage of the free food and nibbles. She was exactly his kind of woman – relaxing to be around, easy to talk to, and up for a good time. And he’d long since gotten used to the feeling of repetition. It was a much safer option than the alternative.
Casey excused herself for a bathroom break and he pulled out his phone to check for any messages. Jeffrey hadn’t spoken to him since their fight, despite the fact they were supposed to be running a company together, and earlier Dean had decided enough was enough and tried to call him before he came out, but there had been no answer.
There was an email though, but not from his pissed off brother. Worse, it was from his parents. They were inviting him to Jeffrey and Alana’s engagement dinner this weekend at a posh restaurant Dean and Jeffrey would be expected to foot the bill for. And he knew the reason for the invite wouldn’t be because they wanted him there. Nope, they wouldn’t have cared less under normal circumstances. His parents were all about appearances, and the invite could only mean one thing. Jeffrey’s future in-laws were coming.
God forbid they had to admit they weren’t perfect parents with perfect sons.
He shook his head. He wasn’t even fazed by the formal way they addressed him anymore. He’d gotten over all that shit a long time ago.
However, he was annoyed at Jeffrey. His brother owed him better than letting him find out from his parents that he was about to get a sister-in-law. Then again, after the way he’d acted when Jeffrey had been about to propose, he could hardly blame his brother.
He caught sight of Casey pushing her way through the mingling crowds, but something had changed. Her lips were tight and her eyes were like daggers as she stormed over to him. When she was a nanosecond away from barrelling into his chest, she lifted her hand and slapped him full force on the face.
‘You bastard!’ she screamed, then went for another swing.
Dean caught both her hands, wishing he had one free to rub the sting out of his jaw. ‘What the fuck was that for?’ he whispered, trying not to attract attention. But it was too late for that. The room had silenced and all eyes were on them.
‘You know what it’s for. Nicole told me. You’ve slept with half the office and given them all crabs!’ she shrieked.
At least there was one plus in what she’d said. Half the party was eyeing each other suspiciously and edging away from what he assumed to be the single females.
Casey tried to head butt him but he dodged it, let her go and took a few steps back.
‘I would never sleep with someone as low as you!’
With that she stormed away leaving him gaping at her retreating back. He felt all eyes on him again. At least this story would thaw Jeffrey out – that is, assuming they didn’t quarantine him for a good de-lousing.
The cause of his public ridicule was easy enough to spot. She was across the room, right by the exit, almost vibrating with laughter and holding one hand over her mouth to mute the sound. He smiled slowly at her and had the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen before she cleared off.
It seemed his little thief had just declared war.
Game on.

Chapter 4 (#u68f2b24d-998a-5e13-a01b-1f20d8d3c703)
By Friday she was desperate to get out of the house. Between spending the days trying to meet Mick the Dick’s impossible deadlines and the nights with a quiet, unresponsive Rose, she just wanted to forget about her troubles and let her hair down with a bunch of strangers who didn’t expect anything from her.
It also had something to do with the fact that, deep down, she was still reeling from her victory on Monday night. Finally, she’d gotten her payback on Mr Perfect and it had been a doozy. She’d also managed to get guest lists and names from the previous events to try to figure out who he was, and the only name that kept recurring was ‘Dean’. It was a common enough name, but the surname was always different. So she wasn’t exactly sure.
No doubt this guy, whoever he was, had a lot more experience crashing parties than she did. She just couldn’t understand why he’d bother. If he could afford all those tailor-made suits surely he could fork out for drinks at a bar if he just wanted to pick up women.
Still, she wasn’t going to spend any more energy on him. As far as she was concerned, they were even. If he happened to show up tonight, she’d ignore him and get on with enjoying herself.
All good in theory, but when she did see him, his silk burgundy shirt and black suit combo was hard to ignore. It seemed to work to highlight the colour of his skin and his dark, melting eyes, to the point she was getting annoyed with herself for ogling.
After all, she’d worked all hours planning this party, from the reindeer ice sculptures set in the window archways, to the band. She’d even sourced the gourmet chef and approved the finger hors d’oeuvres being served, and she planned to take full advantage of every last inch of it. She’d started the evening by stuffing her bag with enough grub to see her through the weekend, making sure to take the least odorous items.
Despite the worry that he was going to try something to ruin her night, the guy just mingled with both men and women, striking up the longest conversation with a short, overweight and balding man whose face was so red and sweaty, she worried he had an ulcer churning under his spare tires.
And she really needed to pay attention to what the girl next to her was blabbering on about, not to what Mr Perfect was doing.
‘So that’s how I got into advertising. What about you?’ the girl asked.
Er, what did she just say? Right. Why we’re here. ‘I love temping, it’s a great way to try new things but I don’t really want to get into advertising …’ That would just be too hard a conversation to carry, even with a girl who looked no older than an intern.
‘But aren’t you worried? I mean, people usually pick what they want to do in their twenties, they don’t wait until they’re old.’
She was in her bloody twenties! There were still two whole years before she hit the big three-oh. ‘I still am.’
The intern got all apologetic then, but Natalie didn’t want to hear it. She left the table to go mingle with someone else, snatching a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and downing half the glass in one motion.
She was stopped in her tracks by the short, sweaty man she’d been worried about earlier.
‘Let’s dance, sweet thing,’ he said, snatching away her much needed alcohol and taking one of her hands in his sweaty, chubby palm.
‘No thank you,’ she said.
‘You are a feisty one, aren’t you,’ he said, ignoring Natalie and hauling her along to where the band was playing a mix of Christmas and chart songs.
She tried to tug free again. ‘I said I don’t want to dance.’
He just pulled her so close, she could smell a mix of meat and beer on his breath, and feel the perspiration on his shirt soak into her lacy, white dress. That was the last straw. This dress was couture and had cost her more than she paid in rent. Her temper simmered. ‘What’s wrong with you? I said I didn’t want to dance.’
His hands slipped down and cupped her bum, then squeezed hard. ‘Dean’s right, you’ve got a tight little arse. If you don’t want to dance, follow me to the men’s room and I’ll take care of you, sweet thing.’
Natalie fisted her hand and was ready to lamp this guy a good one, ulcer or not, but then what he said sank in. ‘What exactly did Dean say?’
The man’s face turned puce. ‘Er, well, not much, just that you were good with your tongue and wanted … well … sex so bad you’d do anyone.’
She clenched her teeth together and wrestled out of his hold.
‘Sweet thing, I can show you a good time. We could even get a room,’ he called, but she’d already spun around and headed for the bar.
Dean – if that was even his name – wasn’t even being discreet about his amusement. She heard his bellow over the music, and her temper reached critical level. She didn’t look at him, didn’t have to. She knew exactly where he was in the room.
‘Hi, I’m Rick.’
An older man with skin like leather pushed into the bar next to her. She glared at him, having a horrible feeling what was going to come out of his mouth next. ‘I don’t have time to chat, Rick.’ Turning to the bartender, she said, ‘A bottle of merlot, please. And a glass.’ Making an exception, she put a bottle of red wine on her credit card – champagne just wasn’t going to cut it this time.
While she got served, Rick got handsy, sliding his arm around her hips. ‘Come on, love. We can get a room. There’s a Travel Lodge not too far from here.’
She snatched his hand before it reached her bum, then spied the gold band on his wedding finger, so held it up to his face. ‘I am not interested, you scuzzy bastard.’
At least he looked abashed before sliding off the ring and pocketing it. ‘How about now? I’ll just be a dirty bastard.’
The waiter brought her the much-needed Merlot. Natalie filled a glass, quickly drained it, then poured another. ‘Let me guess, Dean told you I’m the office slut.’
‘Not in so many words,’ Rick said. ‘Don’t be offended, I can—’
‘If you say anything that insinuates you can give me great sex I will smash this bottle over your head then stab you in the balls with the shards. Now get lost.’
He took her less than subtle hint, grumbling ‘bitch’ as he went. Natalie grabbed her wine and the glass, then made as if to go find an empty table. That’s when she spotted Dean, grinning a victorious grin that was going to be short-lived.
He made his second mistake of that evening and approached her, still laughing.
‘Don’t declare a war if you can’t handle one little battle,’ he said.
Oh, she could handle the battles, and she was going to win the war too. When he was close enough, she pretended to stumble, guessing his reflex reaction would be to catch her.
She was right.
He was conned.
Her glass ‘accidentally’ slipped, pouring the contents down his silk, burgundy shirt. There was no way that’s coming out ever.
He let her go, then frowned down at the damage. Sweat on her favourite dress deserved some payback in her book. Not to mention telling all the old, sleazy bastards that she was easy.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she lied. ‘I hope that comes out. You should probably rinse your shirt before it stains.’
His eyes narrowed at her. ‘You’ve just changed the game.’
Natalie glared back. ‘I told you, I don’t play games. I just get even, and now we are.’
He smirked. ‘We’re not even close, Nicole.’
‘Then bring it on, Dean.’
With that she left the party with the bottle of wine and her hearty plunder. There was no point hanging round getting hit on by a bunch of horned up ancients who probably had pockets filled with little blue pills.
And even though her night had been cut short, the anticipation of how he’d retaliate together with her second victory of the week left her on a bit of a high.
***
Nobody was up when she got in, so she took off her shoes, pulled out her phone, and started googling all the variations of Dean’s name she’d read. After all, it was true what they said. You had to know your enemy if you had a hope of beating them.
But nothing came up that she recognised, not as her Dean anyway.
Rose’s bedroom door opened and to her surprise, Tom came out and headed straight towards her. He usually grunted a hello and went to the bathroom or something, but he clearly had other plans tonight.
‘Good, I’ve been waiting for you to get home,’ he said, sounding relieved.
Natalie couldn’t keep the surprise out of her tone. ‘You were? Why?’
He sat on the chair across from her before answering. ‘I’m worried about Rose. I know you love her as much as I do, and I just wanted to know if she’s said anything about having cold feet to you, or has she changed her mind about me? I know we haven’t always gotten on, but something’s tearing her apart and if I’m the reason, I promise I’ll back off. I’d do anything to keep from hurting her.’
Natalie didn’t think she’d heard Tom say more than two sentences before, and she’d certainly never seen him looking so vulnerable. She remembered what Rose said, about Tom having been hurt and that it wasn’t him driving the distance in their friendship, but that it was Rose’s choice so she wouldn’t worry him.
Then later, Rose’s revelation about having done something awful and worrying she’d hurt Tom too.
‘She hasn’t said anything like that to me, but you’re always here, so …’ Nat shrugged, then as his expression crumpled, she backtracked. ‘I don’t think it’s you, she told me she loves you so much.’
He seemed to relax a little. ‘Thank God. I don’t know how I could go back to a life without her.’
‘I’ll try to talk to her, but I’m not sure when. I mean …’ She didn’t really want to point out the fact that he was there all day, every day, but how did he expect her to get any alone time with Rose when he never left?
‘You never get the chance with me here, right? I know, and I’m sorry about that too. I don’t know how much Rose told you about me, but I have, well, let’s just say I’m not as trusting as I’d like to be.’ He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Why don’t you take her out tomorrow, either to a bar or one of your parties? I don’t want to stop her from living her life, or having friends and enjoying herself. Maybe spending all this time with me is suffocating her.’
Natalie was stunned. She’d thought of Tom as her adversary for a while and figured he was a bit of a controlling bastard too. But now it was obvious he didn’t want to be, and she decided to start giving him the benefit of the doubt.
‘Okay, we can go for dinner and a few drinks. Nothing too wild,’ she said, now she knew he’d worry.
‘Thanks, Nat,’ he said, getting up. ‘I hope we can start getting on better, for Rose’s sake if nothing else.’
‘Me too’, she said and really meant it. Which was not something she’d ever have expected to be saying to Tom. Scrap the week, this was turning out to be a month of firsts.
***
This was going to be nothing if not a shitty way to spend his Saturday night, Dean thought, as he took his place at the table in the restaurant. It’s not that the food was bad. In fact, it was one of the best à la carte restaurants in the city. And just happened to be his brother’s fiancée’s favourite place to eat.
What made it shitty was who he was spending it with. Not that he knew Alana’s parents, they seemed nice enough. But directly across from him were his parents, and they’d yet to even acknowledge him.
Luckily Jeffrey was so dumbstruck that Alana had agreed to marry him, he’d forgotten about their argument, even if Dean hadn’t. But he still forced out the appropriate congratulations, even when he wanted to shake some sense into his brother, and warn Alana that if she broke Jeffrey’s heart he’d do everything in his power to make her regret it.
And he might have, if the Wicked Witch hadn’t flown in on her broom for the evening, dragging his dad along with her.
The first poison dart came as soon as the starters were served, and it was the first time she acknowledged his presence.
‘I see your girlfriend couldn’t make it tonight, Dean.’ His mother’s disparaging gaze didn’t fit with the sweet, doting mother act she was working for the in-laws’ benefit.
He was about to tell his mother he’d had two separate women this month, but had gotten bored of their skill in the bedroom already (not that it was true, he just wanted to wipe the smug look off her face and humiliate her for a change), when he caught Jeffrey throwing him a warning glance. Dean couldn’t screw up his brother’s night and not just because his parent’ would never let him hear the end of it. He hadn’t exactly been a supportive sibling lately. Even if he thought Jeffrey was making a colossal mistake, he should be there for him no matter what.
‘I’m not seeing anyone at the moment,’ he said instead.
His mother tutted, and shook her head with a pained expression. Turning to Alana’s parents, she explained her disappointing eldest son. ‘Ten years ago, he was engaged to be married. I thought by this point we’d be surrounded by grandchildren. But Dean just can’t keep a woman. Luckily Jeffrey’s loyal. We’re so proud of him.’
Dean fisted his hands reflexively, then pulled them under the table. He couldn’t believe the witch was making it sound like he’d been unfaithful, when he’d been anything but.
Jeffrey jumped in before Dean could erupt. ‘Mum, Dean’s so busy with our business he doesn’t have time to date. He’s creating an updated version of our hospitality program, and we’ve already lined up thousands of buyers.’
But their mother just shook her head. It was their father who spoke. ‘You were forever on that computer as a boy. Now you’re a man, son. You need to get out of that office and find yourself a nice wife like your brother. You’re not getting any younger.’
Great, now he was an ancient computer nerd. But he wasn’t going to argue, he just nodded. Thankfully the conversation turned from his unacceptable (to his parents, anyway) love life to the wedding, and while dates in July and centrepiece ideas were bounced around, he zoned out and unlocked his mobile.
First he hooked up to the booking system to find the next party Nicole Porter was listed to attend, and found it easily enough – a hotel just off Trafalgar Square the following night – then added himself to the guest list.
After all, he wasn’t going to let her just get away with ruining his shirt – not that he cared about the clothes. This was a battle of wit and about the only thing keeping him occupied enough so all this wedding stuff wouldn’t drag him back to a place in his head he didn’t want to be.
And she wasn’t just a worthy rival, she was sexy too. With a smart mouth, sexy body and quick wit, she was his ideal fling – exciting, sassy and definitely nothing that would feel repetitive. What made it all the sweeter was that she didn’t seem to feel anything for him other than disdain, though he was sure he’d caught an occasional spark of lust in her eyes. There would be no risk of feelings getting involved, and more importantly, hearts being broken.
No matter what she said, they were playing a game. A sparring, lust-fuelled one. And when the time came, they were both coming out of it winners.
***
‘I really wish I didn’t have that second margarita,’ Natalie said, as she bounced up and down on the seat of the taxi. ‘I’m bursting for the loo.’
Rose smiled for what seemed like the first time that week. ‘You should have gone before we left.’
Hindsight was a funny thing, though not at this moment when she had a bladder full to bursting.
‘Finally!’ As soon as the taxi stopped, she flung a twenty at the driver and scrambled out. The restaurant was the kind of place where they seated you, but Natalie couldn’t wait for that. She was heading straight for the bathroom.
They passed the window and headed for the door, but Rose pulled her back. Natalie crossed her legs, but it didn’t help. ‘Come on, Rose. I’m going to wet the pavement.’
Rose’s expression was blank. ‘I think we should go to that sushi bar around the corner.’
‘The one three streets away? Are you kidding? I’m on the verge of peeing myself.’
Calmly, Rose said, ‘You told me it was my choice tonight.’
Natalie switched to hopping from one foot and the other. ‘You chose here, remember?’
Her friend shot a nervous glance at the door, then refocused on Natalie. ‘I changed my mind.’
She was so desperate, she could cry. ‘Please, Rose. Don’t do this to me.’
‘Look, just go to the loo in there. They’re busy tonight.’ Her friend glanced through the window, then quickly stepped away from it. ‘They won’t even notice you.’
Usually, Natalie wouldn’t dare in case the pee police were watching, but she was too far gone to argue.
‘Fine,’ she mumbled and snuck in.
Thankfully nobody was paying attention to her, but the problem was, she didn’t know the restaurant at all and finding the bathroom was not as easy a task as she thought. She tried to look like she knew what she was doing, like she was supposed to be there, but desperation got the best of her and she grabbed a waiter’s arm, almost knocking over the three steaks he was expertly holding.
‘Bathroom?’ she pleaded.
And the second he nodded to the far corner she was off, trying not to knock over tables as she went. But as she neared, a familiar face exited the men’s room, blocking her way to the ladies’ one. ‘No, please no.’
Dean chuckled, and she had to resist the urge to hop from leg to leg.
‘That’s some way to speak to a guy you told everyone was riddled with crabs and then poured a gallon of wine over,’ he said with a smirk. ‘Are you legitimately here tonight or just in for a freebie?’
Natalie gritted her teeth. She’d have argued with him all night, but … ‘I don’t have time for this. I’m about three seconds from ruining your shoes too, so if you don’t mind, step out of the effing way.’
With a laugh he shifted to let her pass, even though she was fully prepared to shove him out of the way. When she’d regained her composure, she hoped desperately that he’d left, or was on a date. Then he couldn’t pester her anymore and she’d be able to sneak out without the lecture that accompanied peeing in a restaurant you’ve not ordered in.
No such luck.
He was leaning against a wooden archway when she emerged. ‘I think the whole restaurant heard you, there. Everyone thought a race horse had snuck into the bathroom.’
‘Har, har.’ But her cheeks burned as she stalked by him.
‘Lighten up, Nicole. This isn’t the battlefield. I was teasing.’
‘My name is not Nicole,’ she said, whirling on him. ‘And I doubt yours is Dean, either.’
He smiled. ‘It is. I don’t suppose you’d tell me yours?’
Who knew with his always slightly smug, amused expression? She couldn’t tell if he was sincere or if this was another one of those games he kept banging on about. She shook her head. ‘I need to go.’
He frowned. ‘You’re not staying?’
‘Why, so you can tell some other sleazy bastards to feel me up because I’m easy? I don’t think so.’
Just then, another man approached them and he looked remarkably like Dean. His features were similar, but the other one was younger, and looked worried, not like a smug bastard.
When he spoke, it was sincere. ‘I’m really sorry, Miss. Whatever my brother did to you, I can honestly say you can do better. But listen, it’s my engagement dinner tonight, and I don’t want him to cause a scene in front of the future in-laws.’
His smile was sincere too, especially when he glanced towards a table with a beautiful brunette and two older couples.
Then he elbowed his brother in the ribs. ‘For fuck’s sake, Dean. Tell her you’re sorry.’
Dean just smirked at her in an I-told-you-so way. She turned to the younger, nicer version and said, ‘Congratulations to the both of you. And don’t worry, there won’t be any trouble. I’ve never slept with your brother, he only wishes. Enjoy your meal!’
She didn’t look at Dean, just accepted his brother’s gratitude and strolled out of the restaurant with her head held high. She had no idea who won that round, but like Dean said, this was not the battlefield – just an unwelcome coincidence. There would be plenty time to get her own back.
‘What took you so long?’ Rose asked. She was fully submerged in the shadows.
‘Who or what are you hiding from?’ Natalie asked. She didn’t really want to go into all that stuff with Dean. ‘And what’s wrong with eating here?’
Not that she wanted to when he was there, never mind with his family, but it was weird for Rose to change her mind at the last minute.
‘I was hoping for somewhere quieter so we can talk.’
Natalie wasn’t going to argue with that even if she didn’t believe it. She wanted to get away from here as fast as Rose seemed to.
***
‘There really is a first time for everything,’ his brother said as Dean watched his little thief storm out of the restaurant.
Dean was too distracted to ask what his brother was on about – distracted by the way her black, skinny jeans moulded her arse and clung to her surprisingly long legs. But Jeffrey was never deterred by silence.
‘The one woman in London who would probably rather poke her left eye out than sleep with you and I got to shake her hand.’ His brother laughed.
‘It’s early days, and I’m fairly sure she’d rather sleep with me than dismember herself.’ Though in the mood she was in, he could see why Jeffrey might think otherwise.
Jeffrey shook his head. ‘You never knew when to call it quits.’
‘I prefer to think of it as rising to face the challenge,’ he disagreed, following his brother back to the table. And Nicole, or whoever she was, definitely presented a challenge. But it was much more than that.
‘She might beat you down a notch or ten. So I say, go for it.’
‘Knob,’ Dean said, smiling. As they got closer to the table, he whispered, ‘You’re just jealous because you can’t chase sexy blondes anymore.’
His fiancée was in earshot before his brother could reply and Dean wanted to rub in the fact that he’d gotten the last word for once, but decided to enjoy the win silently. Everyone had already dug into the main course that had just been served and didn’t notice the acidic look his mother threw them as they slipped back into their seats.
She struck up a conversation about polo next, and he started on his steak, making sure to stuff his mouth before she asked how he had managed to be such a disappointment at that too. Anyway, he knew his father would answer for him.
It’s all that meddling around with the computer, softened the boy up. We should never have bought it for him.
Thankfully not even his mother seemed interested in what he was up to anymore so he concentrated on his dinner instead. Or at least tried to. Jeffrey didn’t have the best table manners when it came to spaghetti – why he picked that dish on the night the parents met was beyond Dean – but he was more distracted by Alana, occasionally wiping the sauce from his brother’s chin with a napkin, eyes shining and lips curving in a way that said like nothing but how completely and utterly in love she was with him.
Putting the twinge in his chest down to indigestion, he refocused on his steak.
Dean’s mobile vibrated, distracting him from things he’d rather not think about. He pulled it out of his pocket and checked the screen.
Fancy coming over?
xxxxxxx
Mandy. Until a week ago, he’d have taken her up on the offer but his head wasn’t in it tonight. Maybe not ever again. She’d started to sign off with more kisses than was necessary and he suspected these infrequent hook ups were starting to mean more for her.
And if he was honest, he’d had more fun sparring with his ‘Nicole’ for ten minutes than he’d ever had in the hours he’d spent at Mandy’s.
He replied, deciding it was time to finish things with her. He never wanted to lead someone on, knowing exactly how crap it felt.
Sorry, Mandy. I think it’s time we call it quits.
Her reply took all of three seconds.
Okay, baby. You know where I am if you change your mind.
xoxoxoxoxo
He doubted he would. There was just no thrill anymore when it came to dating the way he had been. Dean blamed Jeffrey and this whole idiotic marriage thing. It was stirring up a lot of shit inside and making him come to realizations he’d been happy enough to ignore before now.
***
The little Japanese sushi bar never failed to disappoint, and when they’d had their fill the place had quietened to the point they almost had privacy as they sipped their complementary sakes.
‘So, now we’re pretty much alone, spill,’ Natalie said.
Rose got so pale even her lips turned white.
‘Rose, come on. Whatever you did isn’t half as bad as you think it is. You’re so kind-hearted. You’d feel awful about the tiniest thing. I mean, it’s not like you did something stupid, like went back to a guy’s house because you were drunk and—’
‘You did what?’ Rose asked, the colour burning back into her cheeks.
Oops, she forgot she hadn’t told Rose about Steven yet. ‘I had a one-night stand last week. It’s nothing to worry about. He was cool.’
Rose narrowed her eyes. ‘Nat, he could have hurt you. In fact, wait. You said last week? Was that the night you didn’t come home by any chance?’
Busted.
‘Yeah, that’s the one. But I really was in the storage unit, you know, after I snuck out.’ And after giving another guy a floor show. She still couldn’t get the hot sauce smell off her lovely clutch.
‘Nat, you’re spiralling.’ Rose took her hands. ‘Why?’
Natalie shook her head. ‘Nope, you can take that worried look and flip it on yourself. Tonight’s about you, and I want to know what’s going on. Is it …’
She took a deep breath, then chickened out of what she wanted to ask, and went with something else. ‘Is it Tom? Are you having second thoughts?’
Rose studied her face for a minute. ‘If I tell you the truth, will you tell me what you were going to ask me?’
Frick, there really was no way to get anything past Rose. ‘Deal.’
‘Okay.’ Rose necked her saki then gestured to the waiter for another. ‘I’m not worried about Tom. I think he’ll be an amazing husband, a brilliant dad. The thing is, I’ve been engaged before.’
Natalie blinked, it was all she could do.
‘Don’t hate me for not telling you. It was ten years ago. And I didn’t want you to think I was a heartless cow,’ Rose said, looking down at her hands.
‘Enough of that, I don’t think anything of the sort.’ She slid the rest of her sake over the table. It looked like Rose needed it more.
‘I don’t want to go into the details, but it ended because of me. I left him without an explanation or anything.’ A tear broke free from her eye and slid down her cheek. Rose didn’t even seem to notice as she picked up the drink and downed it.
And the reason her friend had been so down became clear. ‘You don’t want to do the same thing to Tom.’ When Rose nodded, she went on, ‘Then tell me why you left the other guy. I mean, you had to have a good reason.’
Rose’s eyes welled to the point Natalie thought she’d break down in the middle of the restaurant. ‘I just couldn’t see a future with him, not when I looked past the puppy love and took off the rose-tinted glasses. We were opposites in every way. I was ready, even at eighteen, to settle down, start a business and one day have a ton of kids.’
‘He didn’t want that?’ Natalie prompted.
Rose shrugged. ‘We never really spoke about it. I was leaving after the summer to go to college here in the city, and he just spent all his time fiddling with his computer. He had all these ideas about designing games and don’t get me wrong, he was brilliant at it. In fact, I used to go over to his when I was a kid and play them too. He just lacked the ambition to do anything with it and at the end of the day, I couldn’t face supporting him when I wanted to start up a business of my own. So I left.’
Natalie could see it, her friend at eighteen with her future already mapped out. She was so level-headed. Someone who didn’t know what to do with their life would have been a poor match.
‘But why do you feel you might end up doing that to Tom? He’s a banker and does pretty well for himself. In fact, he has a great income, a fancy rental in Chelsea and a 2016 Bentley. I’d say he’s pretty ambitious, and it’s obvious you really love him, so what’s worrying you?’
The waiter approached with another round of drinks, but Rose didn’t down this one. ‘Even without the money, even without the ambition, I’d still love him more than anything. We just click, you know? And I wonder, did I feel that way back then, or was it just puppy love? If I could walk away from one fiancé, will I walk away from this one?’
Natalie wasn’t exactly qualified in relationships, and her experience added up to a handful of one-nighters, two six-month relationships in high school and the occasional fling since she came to London, so she wasn’t the person to go to for advice. But Rose’s predicament seemed so obvious.
‘I think you need to let go of the past and all your guilt so you can move forward with Tom. If you truly believe it is meant to be, then it will work out. You can’t hurt him, hon. You care too much.’
Rose sniffled. ‘What would I do without you?’
Natalie grinned. ‘You’d be lost. So, a Christmas wedding, eh? Do you think Tom would consider moving it to Boxing Day?’
‘For my maid of honour? He’d better. Or there won’t be a wedding at all.’ She chuckled.
Natalie’s throat got all thick, and she grabbed at it, like she could stop the emotion from bubbling up and spilling over. She felt like she was somehow closer to Rose knowing her friend wasn’t perfect, and also relieved at not having to worry about being a misery at the wedding.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to help? I mean, it can’t be easy finding somewhere, even for a small party, this close to the day. And I’ve done loads of last-minute weddings. I could call in a favour somewhere, maybe at the Savoy? I’m friendly with their events manager.’ At first she’d dreaded having to help, but now things had cleared up with Tom, she wanted to do whatever she could.
‘Nope,’ Rose said, shaking her head at the same time. ‘All you have to do is go to the dress fitting when it’s ready. Tom and I will do the rest. We were just going to have the ceremony at the registry office then have a meal with Tom’s friends and family after. I’ve even invited the girls from the shop and their families, but all in all there won’t even be thirty people. Even if you bring a date.’
There was no way she’d take a date. Even spending Christmas day watching the scariest horror films, she could never hide the puffy eyes from all the crying. She’d look a mess on Boxing day. She always did. ‘There’s more chance of me swimming the channel than that.’
Rose frowned. ‘Would you prefer if we moved the wedding to spring, maybe? I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this if you don’t feel up for it.’
Natalie shook her head. ‘I’m not going to be the reason you delay your wedding. Anyway, it’s meant to snow this year – how romantic will that be for the photos? I usually put it all away by the 26th anyway.’
If you could call wrestling with her guilt and grief until she felt halfway normal, putting it all away.
‘I wish you didn’t have to.’
‘Me too,’ Natalie said, then sighed. ‘Anyway, let’s talk about less morbid things, okay?’
‘Okay then. What were you going to say before?’ Rose asked, startling her.
Great. They’d gone from discussing Natalie’s unresolved issues with her mother’s death and Christmas, to talking about her insecurities. Well, she supposed it was now or never. The sooner she knew the answer, she supposed the sooner she could be proactive about the situation. ‘I was worried that the reason you were so down was because you were engaged, wanting to live with your fiancé and were too nice to ask me to move out, even though you wanted me to.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Nat. Of course, I want you to stay!’
Rose looked horrified she’d even suggested otherwise.
‘It’s going to be different when you’re married though. I don’t want to be a third wheel and you and Tom have a life to start living. I’m going to have to go at some point.’ She just wished she’d had a chance to start up her own business first. Now it looked like her savings were going to go on security deposits and be frittered away paying the surplus in rent. God, and furniture. She’d have to start from scratch since everything in the flat belonged to Rose. Unless she could work up the courage to use her mum’s things. But that was too depressing a thought.
As if reading her mind, Rose said, ‘You can stay in the flat as long as you like and keep our stuff. I think when we do move in on our own, it’ll be to Toms place anyway. And Tom has plenty at his house. I’d just take some of my utensils. I could even find you a roommate if you’re worried about paying my parents the rent on your own.’
‘Thanks. The idea of moving so soon is scary. And don’t worry, I’ll deal with the rent.’ She was determined to stand on her own two feet, and that meant demanding a wage rise from Mick the Dick. If she could work up the courage for that, then maybe, just maybe, she’d be brave enough to face sorting out her mother’s things.
***
Dean slipped away to pay the bill after his mother threw him a pointed look. Tapping the company credit card against the bar, he waited for the bill to be tallied and thought again about the interlude with his little thief.
The way she’d said his name, layered with feigned disgust made him smile. He was going to make it his mission to find out hers.
Jeffrey appeared next to him. ‘Listen, I’m sorry about last week. That was a shitty thing for me to say.’
Dean shrugged. ‘I wasn’t exactly acting like the best brother either.’
His brother laughed. ‘Nah, you were acting like an arse.’
With a grin, he replied. ‘Always.’ He knew by the way his brother clapped him on the back that the fight was over.
‘So who was the cute little blonde that wouldn’t go near you with a ten -oot barge pole?’ Jeffrey asked.
Where to start with that one? ‘Not sure what her name is. We’ve crashed a few of the same parties and as far as I can tell, she goes by the name Nicole.’
Jeffrey raised an eyebrow. ‘It looked like she wanted to rip your throat out with her nails, after she kicked you in the balls.’
He chuckled. ‘Yeah, she probably did.’
Then his brother got serious, studying him with a look Dean had never seen before. ‘You like her.’
‘She’s sexy and I want her, but that’s all there is to it.’ Christ, where did all this attentiveness come from? His brother looked like he was examining a specimen in a petri dish – Dean being the object of his scrutiny.
Jeffrey grinned. ‘You’re a shitty liar, my brother. But I’m not going to say any more about it. Well, maybe one thing.’

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