Falling for You by Jill Mansell Page A

existing customers himself. For good measure, she added, “Please?”
    â€œIt’ll have to come out of her wages.”
    Naturally. Maddy flashed him a brilliant smile. “I’ll pay you the thirty pence myself.”
    â€œBlimey, you must be desperate.” Aware of Maddy and Nuala’s intensive gossip sessions, Dexter raised an eyebrow. “Not pregnant, are you?”
    â€œI just need to talk to Nuala.” She heaved an inward sigh. “And you’re her boss, which is why I’m being so nice to you.”
    â€œOK. What d’you want to drink?”
    Hooray. “Two Cokes please.”
    â€œGo ahead then. Take her outside.” Dexter waved a dismissive arm in the direction of Nuala, emerging from the storeroom with a fresh supply of salt-and-vinegar chips. “Just for ten minutes. And she’ll have Diet Coke,” he added. “There’s hardly room for both of us in one bed as it is.”
    â€œBackyard,” Maddy told Nuala when she’d dumped the bags of chips and Dexter had served their drinks. As he dropped the change into Maddy’s hand, he said, “Time starts… now .”
    â€œActually,” Nuala said brightly when they were seated outside, “I prefer Diet Coke. Once you get used to the taste, it’s—”
    â€œNo you don’t,” Maddy interrupted. “You’ve just brainwashed yourself into thinking you prefer it because Dexter won’t let you drink the normal kind.” A lot of their conversations ran along these lines, with Nuala defending Dexter and Maddy vainly attempting to make her see sense.
    â€œBut—”
    â€œAnyway, enough about you. We’re here to talk about me. If I don’t tell you my stuff, I may have to explode.”
    â€œAnd Dexter would make me clear up all the mess.” Instantly diverted, Nuala leaned her elbows on the table and said eagerly, “Go on then, tell me. Is this to do with the bloke you met last week at the party?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI knew it! Is he completely gorgeous?”
    â€œ Yes , but—”
    â€œAnd you really, really fancy him?”
    â€œYes—”
    â€œAnd he really, really fancies you? Oh wow, that’s so brilliant! When did all this happen and why didn’t you tell me bef— ow! ”
    â€œSorry.” Maddy sighed, because the only way to stop Nuala when she got this carried away was to pinch her wrist hard. She hadn’t meant to grind the bones like that, though.
    â€œThat hurt!”
    â€œI know—sorry, sorry—but we don’t have time to play twenty questions, and the thing is, it isn’t brilliant because—”
    â€œGod, he’s married . What a bas—oh, no you don’t.” Nuala snatched her wrist away just in time. “OK, sorry. I’ll shut up.” Pause. “But I’m right, aren’t I? He’s married .”
    â€œHe isn’t.” Shaking her head, Maddy explained the whole sorry McKinnon saga in four minutes flat. This time Nuala listened intently and didn’t interrupt once.
    â€œShit,” she said flatly when Maddy had finished.
    â€œI know.”
    â€œThis isn’t good.”
    â€œTell me about it,” agreed Maddy, draining her Coke and feeling pretty drained herself. At least, her brain felt drained, but underneath the wooden trellis table, her hopelessly overexcited knees were jiggling away like mini Michael Flatleys. Taking an envelope from her jeans pocket and placing it in front of Nuala, she added, “And now this.”
    Nuala whisked the enclosed sheet of paper from the battered envelope and read the brief handwritten note.
    â€œHe wants to meet you tomorrow! God, this is so romantic! I mean, I’ve had phone calls and text messages in my time, but nobody’s ever written me a letter.”
    â€œIt’s not romantic when he’s only doing it because a phone call would be too