The Secret to Falling in Love. Victoria CookeЧитать онлайн книгу.
down pretty well?’ he said. I nodded, unable to stop a smile spreading across my face. It had attracted quite a bit of attention in the couple of days since it was published. I’d seen a few tweets about it and one of my favourite bloggers had written about technology and the demise of social interaction, inspired by my piece.
‘Yeah, so?’ I played it cool.
‘Loose Women have it up for discussion on their show this afternoon. It’s like you’re a superstar,’ he said, beaming. ‘In fact, if you could sign this month’s cover for your best work friend, that would be great.’ He smirked and pushed a copy of NorthStyle in my face.
‘What? No way!’ I blushed, batting it away. I was in complete shock.
‘Well done, kid. I just hope you haven’t put too many people off technology or Dee will have my column cut.’ He winked and walked off, leaving me standing there in a daze. I couldn’t believe it. I hoped Dee would let me watch Loose Women later that morning. I was pretty sure that this would be the first time our magazine had featured on a TV show, which had to earn me a brownie point or two. Instinctively, I picked up my phone and opened WhatsApp: ‘Who can make after-work champers this eve? Need to celebrate.’
As I hit send, my office phone rang. ‘Hello, Melissa at NorthStyle magazine, how can I help?’ I chirped.
‘Melissa, come to my office now, please.’ Dee, disregarding the use of pleasantries, hung up without awaiting a reply.
It was the first time in a while, or ever in fact, that I’d felt excited about going into Dee’s office. I knocked firmly on the wooden door. ‘Come in,’ she shouted flatly. I walked in more surely than I ever had before. ‘Ah, Melissa, take a seat.’ Her tone became silvery as she gestured to the leather chair opposite, and I sat obediently. I looked up and met her gaze. ‘Well, I’m not sure if you heard, but did you know your article has been a bit of a hit?’ Her facial expression remained blank. I couldn’t tell if it was because of her Botox or because she was really forcing herself to offer me a compliment.
‘Oh, er . . .’ I stumbled, unaccustomed to being on the receiving end of Dee’s praise.
‘I’m talking nationwide discussions, global even, if you take into account social media,’ she continued before I could string together a response. Dee had a knack of asking rhetorical questions that really did come across as genuine enquiries. It didn’t matter; I was sensing excitement and I wanted to revel in that. ‘. . . and even Loose Women
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