Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy, Katey Lovell [booksvooks .txt] 📗

person stumbled into a taxi. It should be the perfect night with my friends. There was just one potential spanner in the works. Darius would be there, and bound to ask if I’d come to a decision about loaning him the money. He’d said Nadia had given him a deadline – seventeenth June – and I’d promised myself that rather than rush into a knee-jerk response I’d think things through. I was determined not to let my heart rule my head.

“Is it a significant birthday for Johnny this year?” Eve asked. “I know he’s older than us, but he’s not forty yet, is he?”

“No he’s flaming not! He’s thirty-four!” Tawna gasped, insulted. “As if he’d be forty. He’s not got a single grey hair, and he’s in amazing physical shape. You should see his stomach. Proper washboard. There’s no middle-age spread with Johnny.”

Of course there’s not. Johnny’s the golden boy. Good-looking, charismatic, hard-working and self-motivated. Funny, but not a dickhead. Financially secure. Tawna doesn’t realise how lucky she is.

“Sorry,” Eve said. “I was only asking.”

Her grip tightened on my arm as she walked gingerly over the uneven paving and I was relieved when the restaurant came into view at the end of the road.

“And you’re sure I look all right? I’m not sure about this eyeshadow,” Tawna said, batting her eyelashes to show off the glittery gold eyeshadow I’d persuaded her to try. The way it swept almost up to her eyebrows might seem excessive on some people, but Tawna had such distinct features – almost modelesque – that she pulled it off. With the eyeshadow, fake lashes and shimmering contoured highlights along her cheekbones, Tawna looked as though she’d come straight from the catwalk.

“It’s gorgeous,” Eve replied magnanimously, “and I love that dress too.”

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Tawna stroked her hand against the unmistakably expensive fabric. “Johnny told me to treat myself. ‘No expense spared’ were his exact words, so I took it literally.” She name-dropped the designer, who’d been responsible for dressing an Oscar-winning actress earlier in the year.

My outfit was another charity shop find, but it was designer, one of the limited edition runs for a high street store that caused mini riots between fashionistas and bidding wars on eBay.

“I got this from Debenhams.” Eve shrugged. She was wearing a psychedelic sixties-style mini-dress that suited her gamine figure. The bright colours were set off by a chunky bronze belt, the accent colour matching the pain-inducing heels. “Summer sale,” she added, unapologetically.

“It’s different when you’re engaged to the host,” Tawna insisted. “There are standards to meet. I’m not just representing myself, I’m representing Johnny and the business, and there are some big-name players coming tonight. I can’t turn up in high street fashion.”

I inwardly cursed my friend for her snobbery, whereas Eve just blurted out her thoughts.

“I don’t think fat-cats from South Shields are going to know Matalan from McQueen, to be honest. Last time I came to one of these events one told me I needed to put on a few pounds because I’d ‘look more feminine with curves’.” She shook her head. “He couldn’t have cared less what I was wearing, all he was bothered about was my body fitting his idea of what a woman’s should be.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re bloody gorgeous.”

Eve blew me a kiss of gratitude as we climbed the steps leading up to the entrance of the restaurant. Topiary pots flanked the entrance, bright white fairy lights flashing from among the green leaves. They were only thigh-high, unfortunately. Not big enough to hide behind if I needed to escape my ex.

A smartly dressed doorman welcomed us, checking our names off a guest list he guarded with his life, and a young waitress who was probably being paid a pittance to be at the beck and call of the guests offered me a glass of bubbly. I might have been thinking about the margaritas, but as I spotted Darius schmoozing with a glamorous raven-haired woman on the other side of the room, I decided it wasn’t the time to be fussy. I downed the drink in one, immediately placing the empty flute back on the round silver tray. The waitress looked bemused (and mildly impressed) as I immediately picked up another. Getting drunk from the off seemed to be becoming a habit at events, if mine and Johnny’s birthdays were anything to go by.

Tawna didn’t notice, being too busy hobnobbing with some big shot.

“If you carry on at this rate it’ll be you clinging on to me,” Eve whispered, heading towards a seating plan – a board that was placed on a large wooden easel near the cocktail bar. Names written in exquisite calligraphy were pinned around the circles that represented each table. “Take it steady, yeah?”

“I’ve seen Darius.” I cocked my head a fraction in his general direction, trying to be subtle.

Eve craned her neck.

“Don’t make it obvious.” I swatted her arm. “He might notice me.”

Eve thought I was hiding from him because of the past, rather than the present. She didn’t know about our recent contact. No one did. “It’s packed in here. You’ll be able to avoid him,” she said confidently. “Stay with me and I’ll keep watch, let you know if he comes this way.”

“I can’t avoid him forever though. The wedding of the year’s just around the corner, and in case you’d forgotten, he’s the best man.”

“Well, yes. You’ll have to face up to him then even if it is a tricky situation.”

Tricky? More like impossible.

“Maybe it’d be a weight off your mind if you did speak to him,” Eve continued, still staring in Darius’s direction, although her eyes narrowed when she noticed he was talking to a female. “Get it over and done with before the wedding.”

“Maybe,” I replied non-committally, although inside I was thinking no chance. Not until I’d made a firm decision about the money, and that would take time. I was already feeling decidedly tipsy, and in no fit state to consider