The Blind-date Proposal. Jessica HartЧитать онлайн книгу.
a matter of principle,’ said Kate airily, quite enjoying the thought of herself destined for a life of expatriate luxury.
Finn turned back to his office. ‘Perhaps you could make it a matter of principle to turn up on time tomorrow,’ he said nastily. ‘That would make a nice change.’
It was a pity she wasn’t as good at real life as she was at inventing it, Kate reflected glumly as the bus inched through the rush hour traffic, vibrating noisily. Wouldn’t it be nice to be going home to a real adoring man with pots of money and to be told that she never had to go and work for the likes of Finn McBride ever again?
Kate sighed and rubbed the condensation from the window with her sleeve and peered down at the crowds hurrying along Piccadilly in the rain. They all seemed to know exactly where they were going. Why was she the only one who drifted along from one muddle to the next?
Look at her. Thirty-two and what did she have to show for it? No career, no home of her own, no relationship. The only thing she had gained over the last few years was twenty pounds. Even the misery diet hadn’t worked for her. When their hearts got broken the weight fell off her friends, but comfort eating had been the only way Kate could deal with losing Seb and her job together before Christmas. A double whammy.
Fortified by Bella and Phoebe and a good deal of champagne, Kate had resolved that things would change in the New Year. She was going to sharpen up her act. She would get another, better job and another, better man, she vowed. She would lose weight and start going to the gym and get her life under control.
It was just that all those things seemed a lot easier to achieve after a bottle or two of champagne. It was February already, and her New Year resolutions were still at the talking stage.
She ought at least to have found herself a proper job by now, but nothing was being advertised—no doubt everyone was staying put while they paid off their Christmas credit card bills—and even temping hadn’t proved to be the guaranteed fall-back position she had assumed. Nobody seemed to be getting flu this year, and Kate had been about to sign on as a waitress at the local wine bar when Alison had broken her leg.
Tomorrow, Kate told herself. She would buy a paper and check out the appointments page, go to the gym on her way home and cook herself something healthy and non-fattening for supper.
Tomorrow would see the start of the new Kate.
Bella was eating toast in the kitchen with her hair in rollers when Kate let herself into the house. Since Phoebe had married and moved in with Gib, the two of them and Kate’s surly cat had had the Tooting house to themselves.
The cat was waiting, a brooding presence by the fridge, and Kate knew better than to try and sit down until he had been fed. He was more than capable of shredding her ankles, so she fished out a packet of the over-priced cat food that was all he would accept and forked it into his bowl before she had even taken off her coat.
‘I thought you were going out?’ she said to Bella, eyeing the toast enviously.
Bella could eat whatever she liked and still not put on weight. ‘Metabolism,’ she said cheerfully whenever she was challenged by her less fortunate friends. She was ridiculously pretty, a blue-eyed blonde with legs that went on forever and a sunny disposition. The worst thing about Bella, Kate and Phoebe had often agreed, was that it was impossible to hate her.
‘I am, but Will’s taking me to some incredibly cool restaurant where the portions are bound to be tiny. I thought I’d have something to eat now so I don’t pig out when I get there. Anyway, I’m hungry,’ Bella added simply.
Lucky Bella, going out with the gorgeous Will while she got some poor old widower who needed someone to be nice to him. Kate sighed to herself. Typical.
Without thinking she dropped a slice of bread into the toaster.
Bella pointed her piece of toast at her. ‘You’ll regret that,’ she warned through a mouthful. ‘Gib always cooks enough for an army. Anyway, I thought you were on a diet?’
‘There’s not much point in starting a diet when I’m going out to dinner,’ said Kate, taking off her coat at last. ‘And we’ve got to eat up all the fattening food before we can restock with the healthy stuff.’
It was a good enough excuse to slather butter on her toast as she told Bella about borrowing Will mentally. ‘I wasn’t going to tell Finn McBride that I was just going on a blind date with a sad widower.’
‘A widower?’
Kate told her the little she had learnt from Phoebe. ‘It doesn’t sound like it’s going to be a bundle of laughs, does it?’
‘Come on, he might be gorgeous,’ said Bella.
‘Not with my luck,’ grumbled Kate, but she did her best to talk herself into a more positive frame of mind as she got ready to go out. Perhaps Bella was right. Perhaps a fabulous hunk of manhood was going to walk into her life tonight and sweep her off her feet. It had to be her turn sometime soon, surely?
Just in case, she dressed carefully in a flounced dress whose plunging neckline showed off her best assets. At least there were some advantages to having a figure like hers. It was just a shame that a curvaceous bust came with equally curvy hips and thighs and tummy.
Wriggling her feet into high heels, she felt instantly taller and therefore better. Kate had often thought that life would be so much easier if only she had slightly longer legs. An extra couple of inches wouldn’t have been asking too much now, would it? And a couple less around her hips, which would have balanced her out nicely.
She studied her reflection in the mirror. Amazing what a bit of make-up could do. In a dim light she might even pass for exotic. The warm red in her dress gave her a vaguely gipsyish look that went quite well with her tumbling brown curls and vibrant lipstick. Would the widower be into gipsies? Somehow Kate felt not. Perhaps she should have gone for a rather more demure look?
Could she carry off demure? Kate wondered, unaware that she had lost track of time. It was only when Will arrived to pick up Bella that she thought to look at her watch, and gave a yelp of fright. How could it be eight o’clock already?
It was little comfort to know that Bella wasn’t ready either. Will was reading the paper resignedly in the kitchen, and he raised a laconic hand in greeting as Kate teetered down in her heels to ring for a minicab.
‘It’ll be another twenty minutes,’ said the bored voice at the other end of the phone.
Oh, God, now she would be really late. Punctuality was another of Kate’s New Year resolutions that didn’t seem to be working out as planned.
‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ Kate gabbled when she finally arrived at almost quarter to nine, practically falling in the door when Phoebe opened it. ‘I know I’m late, but I really didn’t mean to be. Please don’t be cross with me! It’s just been one of those days.’
‘It’s always one of those days with you, Kate,’ said Phoebe, trying to sound severe as she gave her friend an affectionate hug.
Kate hung her head. ‘I know, I know, but I am trying to get better.’ She lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘Is he here? What’s he like?’
‘A bit stiff—no, reserved would be a better word,’ Phoebe corrected herself. ‘But he’s very nice when you get to know him, and he’s got a lovely smile. I think he’s quite attractive, too.’
‘Really?’ A hot widower after all! Kate perked up. Things were sounding promising. ‘No beard?’
‘No.’
‘Beer belly? Wet lips?’
‘No!’ Phoebe was laughing now. ‘Come and see for yourself.’
Maybe her luck had changed. Smoothing down her top, Kate took a deep breath and followed Phoebe into the sitting room.
‘Here’s Kate,’ she heard her say, but Kate had already stopped dead