THE FASHIONISTA AND HER LUMBERJACK
Romance on the Go ®
Larissa Vine
Copyright © 2017
Chapter One
April hurried toward Whispers in a denim jacket and a faux vintage lace top. Underneath it, her bra was visible—not obviously visible like she was offering up her cleavage for the whole of London, but accidentally visible like she had no idea that people could see the outline of her bra. She called this look the accidental bra.
It was Friday and she couldn’t stop smiling to herself because she’d survived another week at work. She’d gotten great feedback on all of her fashion columns—there had been no soul-destroying comments from trolls. The number of her Twitter followers was up to 25,107. And now she was about to meet her best friend and most favorite person in the entire world—Miranda.
April stopped past the door and scanned the room for Miranda. The music was so loud, everyone shouted to be heard. Men in suits, probably from the City, stood clutching Long Island Iced Teas and flashing their platinum Amex cards at bored-looking servers. Candles flickered on the tables even though it was several hours before dark.
At last, April spotted Miranda, perched at one of the tall, chrome tables. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail. Her earrings were so long, they almost brushed her collarbone.
April came up to her and kissed her on both cheeks. “Sorry I’m late … the Tube.”
But Miranda didn’t seem to be listening. “Sit down,” she said. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
Curious, April clambered into a seat. Miranda’s face was flushed pink with excitement. She had the classic English rose complexion of blond hair and pale skin. In summer, she always burned.
“I’ve met someone,” she said.
April squealed. “Really? Wow, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you. What’s he like?”
A dreamy look washed over Miranda’s face. “His name’s Dan. He’s a fireman and he’s twenty-eight. Though I don’t know what his star sign is. I never thought to ask. I met him at Helen’s housewarming party. Did you know that she’s bought a place in Ladbroke Grove? God knows how anyone can afford to live there these days.
“So I arrive at the party,” Miranda continued. “And it’s the usual scrum of people, and I don’t want to be there at all. I tell myself that I’ll stay for an hour. One hour to support Helen, then I’ll get a taxi home. But it’s boiling, and the whole place stinks of curry from the apartment next door. So I escape onto the balcony. It’s tiny, one of those Juliet balconies with just enough room for two people and he—Dan—is there. We start talking, and the air is hot and summery and it feels … well, it feels magical. And do you know what he said to me? He said that he’d never met anyone like me in his whole entire life. And it sounds stupid, but I really think I’m in love with him.”
April clapped her hands. Miranda had been single for what felt like forever. She never got excited about men.
“So when are you seeing him again?” April asked. “You could wear this on your first proper date.” She peeled back her denim jacket and gave Miranda a flash of the accidental bra.
Miranda looked thoughtful. “There’s a problem.”
“Oh?”
“He lives in Canada.”
“Oh.”
“He flew back the day after the party.” Miranda sighed. “It’s typical. I never have any luck with men.”
The server arrived bearing a tray with two amber-colored cocktails.
Miranda nodded at the drinks. “I bought us Mai Tais to celebrate.”
April frowned. She wasn’t sure whether falling for someone from a different country was cause to celebrate and besides, Miranda knew that she’d stopped drinking.
April hadn’t drunk since the office party at Christmas, when she’d had too much wine and tried to kiss one of the semi-famous guests. She hadn’t known he was married, and she’d been so persistent that he’d had to hide from her in another room. It had been mortifying. Everyone had laughed about it for weeks.
The server put the Mai Tais on the table. April eyed them warily. How many shots were in them? Was it two or three? She would just have a sip, she decided, then, when Miranda went to the toilet, she would pour some of her drink into Miranda’s glass.
April pushed the mint garnish to the side with a straw and had a sip. It was deliciously fruity, almost healthy. The citrus flavors masked any hint of rum. She had another sip, then another. Then she watched Miranda get up, her ponytail swinging, and head toward the washrooms. This was her chance to offload some of her Mai Tai, but for a reason she couldn’t pinpoint, she didn’t.
She stared at herself in one of the mirrors on the wall. At least she looked okay. She’d put her hair up into a bun to go with the outfit. Some of the strands had escaped from the bun and framed her face in flattering ringlets. Her eyes looked bigger than usual, and her skin seemed to glow. Maybe it was the golden, evening light that was making her look so good. Or, perhaps it was the effect of the Mai Tais.
Miranda came back and began to talk about Dan again—it was hard to get her off of the subject. As April listened, she kept sipping her cocktail. She realized she was laughing a lot and tapping her nails on the table to the beats of the songs. When the server arrived, April, much to her surprise, found herself ordering two more Mai Tais and side of chicken wings.