Valentine's Day. Nicola Marsh

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СКАЧАТЬ under its terms they could still require you to come back for follow-up interviews.’

      Her stomach crimped. ‘To talk about how very much I’m not getting married? How I suddenly find myself alone with half my friends siding with my ex?’ And the other half so determinedly not talking about it. ‘Not exactly perky radio content.’

      He shook his head. ‘It’s what they could ask. But I have a better idea. So that the benefit is not all one-way.’

      She waited silently for his explanation. Mostly because she had no idea what to say.

      ‘If you agree to seeing the year out, EROS is willing to redirect the funds from the engagement, wedding, and honeymoon to a different project. One that you might even enjoy.’

      She frowned. ‘What kind of project?’

      He took a breath. ‘Our listeners have connected with you—’

      ‘You mean your listeners feel sorry for me.’ Pity everywhere she looked.

      ‘—and they want to see you bounce back from this disappointment. They want to follow you on your journey.’

      She ignored that awful thought and glared at him. ‘Really? You see into each of their hearts?’

      His scoff vibrated through his whole body. ‘We spend four million pounds a year on market research. We know how many sugars they each have in their coffee. Trust me. They want to know. You’re like...them...to them.’

      ‘And how is me working through my weekends in a lab going to make good radio? Because that’s how I planned to get through this next year. Low profile and lots of work.’

      ‘I’m asking you to flip that on its head. High profile and getting back out into the sunshine. Show them how you’re bouncing back.’

      Honesty made her ask in a tiny voice, ‘What if I don’t—bounce back? What then?’

      Something flooded his eyes. Was it...compassion? ‘We plan to keep you so busy you won’t have time to wallow.’

      Wallow? Anger rushed up and billowed under her coat. But she didn’t let it out. Not directly. ‘Busy with what?’ she gritted.

      ‘Makeovers. New clothes. Access to all the top clubs... You name it, we’ll arrange it. EROS is making it our personal business to get you back on your feet. Total reinvention. And on your way to meeting Mr Right.’

      She stared at him, aghast. ‘Mr Right?’

      ‘This is an opportunity to reinvent yourself and to find a new man to love.’

      She just stared. There were no words.

      It was only then he seemed to hesitate. ‘I know it feels soon.’

      She blinked.

      He frowned. Scowled. ‘OK, I can see that you’re not understanding—’

      ‘I understand perfectly well. But I refuse. I have no interest in reinvention.’ That wasn’t entirely true—she’d often dreamed about the sorts of things she might have done if she’d grown up with money—but she certainly had no interest in a manufactured man-hunt.

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because there’s nothing wrong with me, for a start.’ Hmm...defensive much? ‘I’m not in a hurry to have you tally up my apparently numerous deficiencies and broadcast them to the world.’

      He stared at her. ‘You’re not deficient, Georgia. That’s not the point of this.’

      ‘Really? What is the point? Other than to tell women everywhere that being yourself is not sufficient to catch a good man.’

      Something her gran had raised her never to believe. Something that was starting to look dangerously possible.

      ‘OK, look... The point of this is ratings. That’s all the network cares about. This promotion was mine and it went arse-up and so it’s my mess to tidy. I just thought that we could spin it so that you can get something decent out of it. Something meaningful.’ Sincerity blazed warm and intense from his eyes. ‘This is an opportunity, Georgia. Fully paid. To do anything you want. For a year.’

      She couldn’t even be offended at having her life so summarily dismissed. Arse-up was a pretty apt description. She sighed. ‘Why would you even care? I’m nobody to you.’

      He glanced away. When he came back to her his eyes were carefully schooled. ‘I feel a certain amount of responsibility. It was my promotion that ended your relationship. The least I can do is help you build a new one.’

      ‘I ended my relationship,’ she pressed. ‘My decisions. I’m not looking to shift blame.’

      ‘And so...?’

      ‘I don’t want to find someone to replace Dan. He wasn’t just someone I picked up out of convenience.’ Though, to her everlasting shame, she realised that maybe he was. And she’d almost made him her husband.

      ‘So you’re just going to hide out here for the next twelve months?’

      Yes.

      ‘No. I’m going to take a year off life to just get back to who I really am. To avoid men altogether and just remember what I liked about being by myself.’ The idea blew across her mind like the leaves on the gravel path ahead of them. But it felt very right. ‘It will be the year of Georgia.’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘The year of Georgia?’

      ‘To please no one but me.’ To find herself again. And see how she felt about herself when left alone in a room with no one else to fill the space.

      ‘Well, then, think about how much you could do for yourself with a blank cheque behind you.’

      It was a seductive image. All those things she’d always wanted to do—secretly—and never had the courage or the money to do. She could do them. At least some of them.

      ‘What would you do,’ he went on, sensing the shift in his fortune, ‘if money was no object?’

      Build that time machine... ‘I don’t know. Self-improvement, learn a language, swim the English Channel?’

      That got his attention. ‘The Channel, really?’

      She shrugged. ‘Well, I’d have to learn how to swim first...’

      Suddenly he was laughing. ‘The Year of Georgia. We could mix it up. Get a couple of experts to help us out with some ideas.’ Grey eyes blazed into hers. ‘Fifty thousand pounds, Georgia. All for you.’

      She stared at him. For an age. ‘Actually, I really just want all of this to go away. Can fifty grand buy that?’

      The compassion returned. It flickered across his eyes and then disappeared. ‘Not literally, but there’s an extra-special level of feeding-frenzy that the public reserves for those not wanting the attention. Maybe fronting up to it will be a way to help end it?’

      That СКАЧАТЬ