The Lost Souls Dating Agency by Suneeti Rekhari

hopefully.
    Roxanne stared intently at me. ‘In what role would you like me to join? I’m no good at matchmaking.’
    â€˜Oh no, that would be my job. I really could use a receptionist and also someone to help me file all the paperwork I keep about my clients.’
    Roxanne was silent.
    â€˜I’m happy to pay you a good salary although it won’t be much at this stage,’ I said, somewhat embarrassed.
    â€˜Oh that’s not a problem. I’m in no need of money.’
    I waited for her to say more. ‘We can trial it for a while to see how you like it,’ I said hopefully.
    â€˜I wonder how it would work with my non-detector spell. No good having a receptionist that no-one can see,’ Roxanne exclaimed.
    â€˜But if there is a need for you to be seen won’t that influence the spell?’
    â€˜That’s true, it might. Do you really have a need for me to be there?’
    â€˜More than you know, Roxanne. I would really like some company,’ I said honestly.
    Roxanne’s expression changed. She smiled kindly. ‘That’s settled it then. I’ll join!’
    And just like that I found a receptionist for Lost Souls.

Chapter 21
    I was walking to uni to hand in an essay after my talk with Roxanne when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I was keeping it very close to me, just in case.
    It was a phone number I didn’t recognise. The voice that greeted me when I answered made my heart do an unusual little somersault.
    â€˜I hope you don’t mind me ambushing your friend for your number,’ Will said cheerily.
    â€˜I didn’t realise it was an ambush! I would have warned her otherwise.’ I smiled.
    He chuckled. A heavy truck went past on the road heading for the Yarraville oil refinery and I couldn’t hear what he said next. I scowled at the receding truck.
    â€˜Sorry, I’m on a noisy road and I can hardly hear you,’ I said loudly. I looked around for a quieter spot. ‘Hang on just a minute, I’ll duck into this side street.’
    I was impressed by my jogging. In no time I was halfway down the tree lined street. Now my heart was racing even faster.
    â€˜What were you saying?’ I said a little breathlessly into my phone.
    â€˜I was wondering what you were doing for lunch tomorrow,’ Will said smoothly.
    â€˜Peanut butter sandwiches,’ I said without thinking. Why did my brain turn to mush when I spoke to him?
    He laughed. ‘Well I was hoping I could interest you in lunch by the river. I’m working at the National Gallery shop over the semester break. I could meet you there in my lunch hour?’
    â€˜That sounds great!’ I said quickly. Too quickly? ‘Much better than peanut butter sandwiches.’ I grinned.
    â€˜Well I haven’t tried the sushi at this shop close to the gallery, so I can’t guarantee it’ll be better!’ Will said good-naturedly. ‘I’ll see you there around one.’
    I think I floated the rest of the way to uni.
    ***
    The next afternoon, at quarter to one, I stood outside the National Gallery of Victoria. I’m surprised I managed to get here on time at all. It took me ages to decide what to wear. In the end I wore my old favourite jeans, a black and white striped long sleeved top, mustard cardigan and my beloved red elephant pin. I looked exactly as I did every other day. So why was there a mountain of clothes strewn over my bed at home right now?
    Exactly fifteen minutes later, I saw Will emerge from the sliding doors at the gallery entrance. His tall frame was encased in a perfectly tailored shirt and dark blue pants. His hair shone coppery blonde from the reflection of the gallery’s display lights, so did his eyes, a deep blue. Why did he have to look so damned gorgeous? I wish I was sitting resplendent on a sofa, in a ball gown, sipping wine sophisticatedly, instead of in my jeans and silly elephant pin.
    We walked down to