Someone Like You (The Ever After Agency #4)

Chapter 27

27

POPPY

‘Hi, darling – so sorry I’m late,’ says Tristan.

It’s not often I get annoyed at Tristan, but this is one of those rare moments, as I’ve been saving this table and an empty bar stool for twenty minutes, and two days before Christmas, I should be wearing a suit of armour and wielding a sword. If I had a pound for every tut and eye roll in response to ‘Sorry, that’s taken’, I could shout the entire bar a round of drinks.

He leans close and I accept a kiss on the lips, which instantly washes my peevishness away. Tristan’s kisses have that kind of power.

‘No worries,’ I say. ‘But if you were any later, I would have got a call from the casting agent for Gladiators .’

‘Holding a table a bit like running the gauntlet?’ he asks.

‘You have no idea.’

Just then, he’s jostled by a large man in an expensive suit who’s boisterously telling a story to a group of similarly suited men. The man doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s knocked into Tristan, let alone apologise .

‘I might have some idea,’ Tris says to me drily. ‘Who chose this place again?’

‘Ah, that would be you, babe.’

‘Right,’ he says with a twinkle in his eye. He checks his watch. ‘So, Rav and Jass are due at half-five. Question is, do I wait for them to get here and help you hold the table or head to the bar now?’

I’m about to tell him to go to the bar when I hear, ‘We’re here, we’re here.’

I look to my left, catching sight of Jacinda attempting to push her way between the large man and one of his cronies. ‘Excuse me, I’m a pregnant woman and I need to get through.’

The man steps aside instantly. ‘My apologies, madam.’ Oh, so he does have manners.

Or maybe Jacinda just uttered the magic words – she certainly doesn’t appear to be pregnant this early on. I file that nugget away for next time I need to save a seat in a bar. ‘My pregnant friend is sitting there’ obviously carries more weight – so to speak.

‘Hi!’ she exclaims, kissing me on the cheek, then Tristan. He helps Jass climb onto the stool, as it’s high and she’s tiny.

‘Where’s Rav?’ he asks.

‘Checking our coats – although, in hindsight, probably a stupid idea. It will be New Year’s before we get out of here. This place is teeming.’

‘I’ll head to the bar, then. Wine?’ he asks me.

I nod.

‘And a mocktail for Mum,’ he says to Jass, dipping his head in a pretend bow.

The way the word ‘Mum’ rolls off his tongue turns my insides to mush. Thoughts of becoming one myself have become almost all-consuming, especially this time of year when we’ve wound down at work and my sole professional responsibility is waiting on a (likely panicked) call from Gaby .

‘So sorry we had to do Christmas drinks out,’ says Jass. ‘And thanks for coming all the way into Central London.’

‘No worries,’ I reply with a smile. ‘It sounds like your parents achieved the impossible, getting last-minute accommodation like that.’

‘Can you believe it? Seventeen of us in one house – though, it’s supposed to be enormous .’

‘Wait, seventeen ?’

‘Yep. Three brothers, three sisters-in-law, seven nephews, Mum and Dad, and me and Rav.’

‘That’s… I mean, I’m the only child in my family – so is Tris – I can’t even imagine.’

‘It’ll be mad but brilliant!’ she says with a grin. ‘Though, it’s so last-minute, I haven’t even packed yet, which you know I hate.’

Like me, Jacinda prefers weeks of careful planning and packing in the lead up to a trip.

‘The holidays can be really stressful,’ I say, grateful for our plan to have a quiet Christmas, just me, Tris, and Saffron. Although, missing my parents is its own kind of stress.

‘They are! I feel like I’ve spent the past month running about, Christmas list in hand, making sure I get the correct LEGO sets. My nephews are so spoilt – one wrong present can cause a tantrum the size of France.’

I chuckle, knowing how much I plan on spoiling Baby Sharma.

‘Hiya,’ says Ravi, looking harried. ‘Total mare at coat check,’ he says, kissing my cheek. ‘Tris at the bar?’ he asks me.

‘Yep.’

‘Right, back into the fray.’ He presses his lips softly to Jacinda’s head, then disappears into the crowd. They’re so much more affectionate now they’re expecting a child.

‘Have you heard from Shaz and Lauren?’ Jacinda asks. ‘I’ve sent a couple of messages but she’s only “hearted” them. ’

‘Same. But from the pics on Insta, the trip looks like it’s going well.’

Shaz and Lauren are in Melbourne over the holidays for Lauren’s meet-the-family Christmas. She was incredibly nervous about it until I told her that when I lived in Melbourne and Shaz and I became besties, her family practically adopted me. Any holiday that I didn’t go home to Tassie for, they included me in their celebrations. Shaz’s mum, Cheryl, even calls me her second daughter. They are going to love Lauren – like we all do. I don’t even mind if she takes my spot and I’m bumped down to number three.

‘Agreed!’ says Jacinda. ‘Though, I’m so bloody jealous of all those blue-sky, poolside, drinking-chilled-white-wine-on-the-veranda photos. And not just because I can’t have wine at the mo.’

I laugh despite feeling a pang of homesickness for Australia. I love Christmas in England – London especially with all the stunning Christmas decorations and window displays – but I still miss hot Christmases, including the food. The mere thought of fruit platters and prawns and fat slices of cold ham and six types of salad can get me salivating.

‘How about you?’ asks Jacinda. ‘Today your last day at work?’

‘At the office, yes, but my case is still active – well, sort of.’

‘This the one with Freya’s friend?’

‘Yep.’

‘So, why is it only sort-of active?’

‘Cone of silence?’ I ask.

Unlike Shaz and Lauren, Jacinda and Ravi haven’t met Raff and Gaby, but they know Freya and I need to maintain a modicum of client confidentiality here.

‘Of course !’ she says, her dark-brown eyes dancing with curiosity. Or is that mischief? ‘I live for gossip about your cases – I’d never jeopardise that. ’

I fill her in, her mouth stretching into a huge ‘O’ as the update progresses.

‘Blimey. Poor Gaby. So, any update?’

‘Actually, no, and I’m not sure if no news is good news or the opposite. And considering that good news for Gaby might mean something else entirely for the case…’ I trail off, my mind fixating on how Gaby sought my permission to act on her feelings.

I catch myself staring at the sticky surface of the table, realising that even if Gaby isn’t my actual client, her HEA is just as important to me as Raff’s.

And therein lies the matchmaker’s conundrum. Does this mean that if Gaby and Raff don’t end up together – and, really, at this point it could go either way – I’m committing to finding Gaby a match?

I shake my head. This is too much to ponder in a crowded bar.

‘Pop…’

I lift my gaze and smile at Jass. ‘Sorry, just… in my head – about Gaby.’

‘Well, send her a message,’ says Jass. ‘You might be imagining the worst.’ She leans closer and says, ‘We all do it.’ She gives me a knowing smile.

‘Yeah, you’re right. On both counts.’

She sits back, giving me a self-satisfied look that says, ‘Well, obvs!’

I take out my phone and send a casual hey-what’s-up? message to Gaby, then slip it back into my handbag.

‘Now, back to you,’ I say. ‘Are you and Ravi telling your family when you see them?’

‘Technically, we’re supposed to wait a few more weeks – just to, you know, make sure everything’s all right – but honestly, I can barely stop myself from shouting about it, even to strangers. ’

‘Well, you did announce it to them,’ I say, pointing at the group of men behind us.

‘True,’ she says with a laugh. ‘I’ve told Rav I’ll do my best, but we’ll see how long that lasts. Guaranteed it’ll be, “Hello, Mum. Hello, Dad. I’m pregnant.”’

I start laughing, then reach for her hand. ‘Oh, I’m so happy for you guys.’

‘Thanks.’ She flashes me an excited grin, then leans in. ‘So, when are you and Tris going to start trying?’

I should have seen that coming.

It’s the sort of question close friends ask when they’re expecting, especially when they know you want to have kids someday.

Only it seems that with all our closest friends moving onto this next phase, ‘someday’ is feeling a lot closer than it used to.

Gaby

Around noon, I take a breather to check my inbox, deleting at least a dozen buy-this-thing-you-don’t-need emails, then scrolling through all the other non-wedding notifications.

That’s when I discover I got a text from Poppy early this morning:

Just checking in. How are things in Seattle?

As far as texts go, it’s completely innocuous, but I’ve just caught Raff looking at my phone. Thank god she didn’t say something like, ‘Hey, have you told Raff you’re in love with him yet?’ or he and I would be having a serious talk right now .

‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Rude of me, reading over your shoulder like that.’

‘It’s okay. It’s only Poppy – you know, Freya’s friend from work.’

‘Oh right, yeah. I haven’t seen her in ages. I didn’t realise you two were friendly.’

‘We hung out a couple of times earlier in the month – with Freya.’ Fudging the truth a little – well, a lot – but what else am I going to say?

Then it dawns on me; Raff might make the connection.

Me → Poppy → Freya → the Ever After Agency → him giving Freya the go-ahead to match him if he didn’t have to go on any dates.

Honestly, I’m surprised he still believes that he and Julia met randomly. I mean, hello ?! For a smart guy, Raff can be pretty dim sometimes. Like now.

‘We should organise something,’ he says, and I snap back to Dad’s study.

‘Organise something?’ I ask, perplexed. Have I missed a critical detail while I’ve been in my head? I scan my master list for the umpteenth time.

‘Yes, for when we get back to London,’ he replies.

‘What are you talking about? Organise what?’

‘Dinner or drinks – perhaps a games night,’ he replies calmly. ‘Freya and Freddie, Poppy and Tristan, me and Julia, and you. Doesn’t that sound fun?’

Um, no, Raff, that does not sound fun. It sounds like the exact opposite of fun. More like Noah’s frigging ark with all the people arriving two-by-two and poor, lonely Gaby there all on her lonesome as the seventh wheel.

I’d rather take a dip in the Thames. Naked. In the middle of the day in front of all the tourists .

‘Super fun,’ I lie with a tight smile. I cannot deal with this right now – there’s too much to do.

I set my phone down and go back to the list of vendors, assessing where we’re at. So far, we’ve talked to everyone except the woman who’s making the most enormous wedding cake known to humanity. I’ve left a message on her phone, sent an email, and DMed her on both Facebook and Instagram. Nada .

Raff’s stomach grumbles loudly. Our eyes meet and he flushes with embarrassment.

‘Sorry, I haven’t had anything this morning, except that cup of tea.’

‘Yeah, me neither. Actually, that’s a lie. I had a Christmas cookie. Okay, three Christmas cookies,’ I admit, and he raises his eyebrows at me, his mouth twitching.

Stop being so frigging cute, Rafferty.

I clear my throat so I don’t blurt that out.

‘Let’s take a break,’ I say instead.

Like me, Raff likes to leave a clean desk, even if he’s just taking a break, and he starts shuffling paper into piles. Now would be a good time to tell him that Aunt Christine thinks we’re together, but I can’t make myself say the words.

Because what if I jinx it?

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Gaby. Jinx it? What are you? Twelve?

But there is something I should raise with him. ‘Hey, Raff, before we join the others… You understand why I haven’t told them about the venue yet, right?’

‘Absolutely. You want to wait until we hear from everyone and present the contingency plan all in one go.’

This strategy is something he and I have both employed at Global Reach – individually and together. Launching a campaign can go south for a multitude of reasons. And before going back to the client, it’s best to have all the information and a fully formed plan to right the ship. That helps soften the blow and instil confidence.

‘Exactly,’ I say, glad he gets it.

‘I’d do the same thing, Gabs,’ he assures me.

‘So, you’re okay with outright lying if anyone asks?’

‘Well, when you put it that way…’ he replies, his expression serious.

‘Raff! But what if I?—’

He laughs. ‘Gotcha.’ He winks, the left corner of his mouth lifting in a half smile, and it’s like a lightning bolt shoots through me, then concentrates between my legs.

Forget ‘cute’. Stop being to frigging SEXY, Rafferty.

I’m really out of my depth here.

After lunch, I’ll sneak away and text Poppy with an update. Which is that I am dying inside while distracting myself with save-the-wedding duties. Maybe she’ll have some keep-my-libido-in-check strategies she can share.

Like not sleeping in the same bed with the person you’re lusting after? Or not spending all morning holed up in a small study with him RIGHT THERE?

‘Gabs? Are you coming?’

His voice jolts me back to reality.

‘Yep!’ I reply cheerfully.

Please kill me now.

Poppy

We’re on the sofa watching the Vicar of Dibley episode where Geraldine eats four Christmas dinners, and my phone alerts me to an incoming message. It’s from Gaby – and it’s long .

‘Everything all right, darling?’ Tristan asks, pausing the TV.

‘Umm…’ I scan the message, then look at Tristan. ‘Not great, actually. It’s Gaby. I should call her. Is that okay?’

‘Of course.’

I get up and take my phone into our bedroom. As I’m closing the door, Tristan un-pauses the episode, letting out a loud guffaw at Dawn French’s priceless facial expression at being served an entire plum pudding to herself.

I climb onto the bed and prop myself against some pillows, then call Gaby. She may not answer – it sounds like there’s a house full of people and she’s in the thick of handling a wedding fiasco – but she only sent the message a few minutes ago, so fingers crossed.

She answers almost right away. ‘Hi, Poppy,’ she says, her voice low.

‘Hi. Is now a good time to talk? Are you somewhere private?’

‘Not at the moment but hold tight.’ There’s muffled noise as she relocates, but it doesn’t take long. ‘Okay, I’m in my old bedroom, but there’s no lock on the door so I might be interrupted.’

‘I considered replying via text, but it might be easier to talk,’ I say. ‘Sounds like you’ve got a lot going on.’

‘Yeah.’ She sighs softly. ‘Look, I know what you’re going to say.’

I laugh. ‘How can you when I don’t even know what I’m going to say?’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. Your situation is… ahh… unique – and that’s before we throw the wedding stuff into the mix.’

‘Yeah. It’s ripped straight out of a bad romcom,’ she says.

‘Or a good one. Nothing wrong with the forced-proximity trope,’ I reply, thinking of Shaz. It’s one of her faves.

Gaby chuckles then exhales noisily. ‘Poppy, half the time I feel like I’m on the cusp of saying something. Like I won’t be able to hold it in any longer and I’ll just blurt out how I feel. ’

‘I gleaned that from your message. It sounds rough.’

‘It is – especially when he does something that’s typically Raff, but now I’m seeing it through a new lens and it takes on an entirely different meaning.’

‘Such as?’ I ask.

‘Well, here’s one – we hold hands sometimes. We always have – crossing a busy street, if one of us gets bad news – or good news, for that matter. We’ve always been touchy-feely with each other, but now it has a completely different effect on me. And then I find myself staring at his lips and wanting him to kiss me – but then my brain’s like, “Um, Gaby, it’s Raff .”’

‘You’re confused.’

‘I am so fucking confused,’ she says.

‘Can I ask you something?’ I want to broach the topic of Julia, but I need to tread lightly here.

‘Ask away,’ she replies.

‘Does he talk to you about Julia?’

It takes a moment for her to reply. ‘Yeah, he does. I can tell he likes her. He even wants to plan a get together when we’re back in London. Oh, and get this – you and Tristan are invited!’

That surprises me, but I don’t let on. ‘Let’s cross that bridge if we come to it,’ I say instead.

‘Isn’t the expression when we come to it?’ she asks dryly.

‘Yes, but nothing is set in stone yet. There’s so much going on, especially with the wedding. And we can’t be sure of Raff’s feelings – not in such a heightened environment. But I do have one piece of advice – and you can take it or leave it.’

‘You’re going to tell me to change the sleeping arrangements,’ she states with a tone of resignation.

‘Yes. It’s one of the few things you can control and it might give you better perspective if you’re not sleeping together.’ Her breath hitches and I rush to clarify what I meant. ‘Sorry – I meant that literally, not well… you know. Sorry – it’s been a long day.’

‘It’s okay. And you don’t need to apologise. You’re doing me a huge favour by talking to me – especially on Christmas Eve Eve when you should be chilling with your hot husband.’

There are a few seconds of silence, and I can’t help smiling. Did she really just say that?

‘ And now you know I think Tristan is hot,’ she says, laughing at herself.

‘It’s okay. There are still times when it hits me how good-looking he is.’

‘Completely understandable. And on that note… I have a wedding to save, so…’

‘Go! That’s important work – and I’m speaking as someone in the biz.’

‘Thanks, Poppy. I’ll let you know how things go – with the other thing, I mean. And if I don’t talk to you beforehand, Merry Christmas.’

‘Merry Christmas!’

We end the call and I go back into the lounge room and take the remote to pause the TV again. I straddle my hot husband, pressing my lips to his.

‘Ms Dean,’ he says, giving my bum a squeeze, ‘are you trying to seduce me?’

‘If you have to ask, I’m not doing a very good job.’

He kisses me again, but a niggling thought raises its head and I gently move away.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘There’s nothing wrong, but…’

‘Darling?’

He peers up at me with those whisky-coloured eyes. If we have a baby, it will probably have his eye colour, because mine are grey .

‘I’ve been thinking…’ I start. ‘What if we started trying… for a baby?’ I regard him closely to gauge his reaction.

A myriad of emotions dance behind his eyes – joy, excitement, love – and his mouth stretches into a grin.

‘I’ve been thinking about it too.’

‘You have?’

‘Hard not to when it’s all our friends are talking about.’

‘I know, right?’ I say excitedly.

‘It would be rather wonderful all of us having children at the same time.’

‘Yes!’ I slap him playfully on the chest. ‘I thought that too.’

He sniggers, then his laughter becomes a questioning smile. ‘So, how about we start trying right now?’ He lifts his brow inquisitively.

‘Are you trying to seduce me, Mr Fellows?’

‘I can’t be doing a very good job if you have to ask.’

His hand captures the back of my neck and he pulls me into a kiss.