Page 6 of Forever, Never, Always (Forever #2)

Sofia

Shit. Shit. Bollocksing shit. Why did I just lie to my best friends? They don’t judge me for my non-existent dating life. In fact, they’re the only ones who never, ever judge me for anything. And now, I’m lying to them to, what, make myself look better?

I get into the office, glancing at my reflection as I enter the lift.

I’ve borrowed more of Zoe’s clothes to try and fit in, and today, I opted for a short tennis skirt with a knitted V-neck sweater.

It’s giving cute and definitely not mumsy.

When I get paid at the end of the month, she’s vowed to take me shopping so I can get my own clothes.

Dexter is perched on my desk, and he looks up as I approach.

His smile is wide, and I blush as his eyes roam up and down my body.

I dump my bag and sit in my chair. “This is the second time you’ve been waiting,” I say with a smile.

“People will start to talk.” I seem to have grown a second personality, one for work and the other for home.

And in work mode, I’m flirty and dangerous, completely the opposite to my mum life.

He grins and leans closer. “Maybe I want them to.” He slides today’s magazine edition towards me, and I glance down at my article on the second page.

“Oh my god, it made second page?” I ask, my smile so wide, it hurts my face.

“I told you it was good.”

“Thank you,” I say as my eyes scan the article.

“Keep it up and maybe you’ll make the centrefold.” He gives me a wink then heads off towards his office, turning back before going inside and asking, “Are you coming for drinks after work?” A few of the others look up, and I feel myself sitting taller. I nod, and he grins. “Good.”

At the next desk, Amelia smiles awkwardly. She’s made it clear she can’t stand me, trying to avoid all conversation with me, but this time, she leans closer. “I love the skirt,” she says.

“Thanks.”

“There’s some cute trainers in the stock cupboard that’d look great.”

“Stock cupboard?”

She rolls her eyes, and I feel myself shrink back. “Hasn’t anyone shown you?” I shake my head, and she pushes to stand. “Follow me.”

We head out the office and down the corridor to a room beside the kitchen.

She puts a code into the keypad and the door opens to reveal shelves full of clothes and shoes.

“We get sent this stuff to review,” she says, “and we never send it back. But these,” she says, grabbing a pair of Fendi trainers in soft pink and cream, “would look so cute on you.”

I stare wide-eyed. “Are we allowed to wear them?”

“Wear them?” she asks, laughing. “Take them, they’re yours.” And she thrusts them my way.

“Maybe I should check with Dexter?”

She rolls her eyes in that way that makes me feel stupid. “Dex doesn’t care, trust me. He said we can help ourselves to it. Besides, these have been here for weeks.” She rummages around on a shelf and retrieves a cute pink bag. “And this would finish the outfit.”

I stare longingly at the Fendi bag and shake my head. “No, I couldn’t possibly.”

“Stop being so . . . straitlaced. Ask anyone in the office, they’ll tell you the same.”

“I just think Dexter should okay it.”

She crosses her arms and gives me a mean girl look. “I’m in charge of fashion around here and I’m okaying it. Are you saying you don’t think I have the authority?”

I shake my head. “No, not at all.”

“Then take the damn bag and trainers. They’re a gift.” She hustles me from the room and heads back to her desk.

I go back to mine, and Lula, one of Amelia’s crew, grins. “You’re so right, Me-me,” she coos, “Those shoes will look fantastic on her.”

I smile, sitting at my desk.

“She doesn’t think so,” Amelia mutters coldly.

“That’s not what I meant,” I add quickly. “I’m so grateful.”

Amelia taps her pen on her lip. “You never said thank you.”

I feel the blush creeping across my chest. “Oh god, I didn’t. Thank you so much.”

“Put them on. They’ll look great,” adds Noah, another of her crew members. I noticed from day one these three in particular are close. They even make their coffees at the same time.

I change my trainers. She’s right, they look amazing, and all three of them say so as I put Zoe’s trainers in my bag.

By four o’ clock, we’re ushered from the office and down the road to the nearest wine bar. I put a quick call into my mum to check on Harry, and she tells me he’s a superstar, which helps me to relax.

When I go inside after the others, Dexter passes me a glass of Champagne. “Thanks.”

“You deserve it.”

He directs me to the large table occupied by some of the other workers, and we perch on two stools at the end. “So, how did you find your first week?” he asks.

“Good,” I say with a genuine smile. “It was hard at the start, but I’ve fallen into a good routine. And everyone seems . . . friendly.”

He nods. “I’ve got some amazing staff.”

“How long have you worked in journalism?”

“Ten years,” he says proudly. “I started as a junior at my father’s newspaper and progressed to reporter, but it wasn’t for me. I hated chasing the stories and wanted something more relaxed. I saw an ad for an article writer about five years ago for a men’s magazine and I never looked back.”

“You’re a writer rather than a journalist?” I ask, and he nods.

“I’ve always loved writing since I was a child.”

“Me too.”

“And how did you get into it?” he asks.

“Honestly, I have no idea,” I say with a laugh.

“I didn’t plan on it, but my parents pushed me to get a job after school, so I did an apprenticeship for a health magazine.

Then I moved to a travel magazine, which is where I met my old boss.

She was at a networking thing, and we got talking and she mentioned an opening here, so I applied. ”

“You got on well with her,” he says, nodding. “She was very insistent we keep you on.”

“She was?” I ask with a fond smile.

“I’m glad we listened,” he adds, winking. “You mentioned you have kids?”

“Just one. Harry.”

“Nice. How old?”

“He’s almost one.”

“Cute.”

“Do you have kids?”

He scoffs like the thought is ridiculous. “No. No kids. I love my life too much. What does your partner think of your second page article?”

I smirk. “I’m also single.”

He takes a sip of Champagne. “Interesting.”

Eric

Whenever we get the chance, my brothers and I meet at our local bar. It’s been the same ever since we turned eighteen, a ritual none of us can break.

I take a sip of my pint, zoning out as Jimmy and Hugo argue over who supports the best rugby team. Seb shifts closer. “Are you okay?” he asks, and I nod. “You’re too quiet, and usually when that happens, it’s because you’re worrying.”

I roll my eyes. Our youngest brother is so in tune, he can read a person at a glance. “I’m fine.”

“Things with Zoe all good?”

I laugh. “Yes, Seb, we’re fine.”

He winces. “Just fine?”

“Good then,” I say a little more impatiently.

“I knew it was something to do with her.”

“What’s up?” asks Hugo.

“Ric’s having woman problems,” says Seb.

“I am not,” I snap.

“Shit, things not good with you and Zoe?” Hugo asks.

“Knew it wouldn’t last,” adds Jimmy, laughing, “You both owe me a tenner.”

My frown deepens. “You’re betting on my relationship?”

“Jimmy called it, and you know we can’t turn down a chance to get a tenner from him,” says Hugo with a shrug.

“For your information, Zoe and I are good.”

“So, what’s wrong?” Seb pushes.

I groan. “I might like someone else.” They all stare wide-eyed, waiting for me to continue. “I’m not telling you anything else in case you start betting again.”

“Does she, or he , know?” asks Seb.

“No, she doesn’t,” I say, making it clear.

“Do you think she feels the same way?” asks Hugo.

“No,” I mutter, shaking my head. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.” Which is a total lie because Sofia’s all I’ve thought about since we had dinner last night.

“Tell her,” says Jimmy.

“I can’t.”

“If she feels the same, you can dump Zoe.”

“That’s a shit thing to do,” says Seb, hitting Jimmy over the head. “But you should end things with Zoe. You clearly don’t like her that much.”

“I do,” I say defensively. I’ve thought about that a lot too, and Zoe is perfect for me. Not too full on and not too needy. It’s probably why we’ve lasted a few months.

“If you did, you wouldn’t have looked at this other woman,” he says.

“Don’t talk shit,” says Jimmy. “He can like more than one woman. He isn’t married.”

“The thing is,” I begin carefully, “Zoe knows her, so I can’t do that to either of them. Just forget it,” I say. “It’s nothing, probably just an urge.”

“An urge?” Seb repeats.

“Yeah, yah know, an itch I want to scratch. There’s nothing in it, just sex, and I can’t risk what I have with Zoe for a quick shag.”

“Makes sense,” he mutters, nodding his approval. He settled young with his wife, Katie, and he’s always loved her. He’s never played the field or gone elsewhere. He’s all about the happy, married life.

“I think you should put yourself first,” Jimmy advises.

“And that’s why you’re still single,” says Seb. “Ignore him. You’ve got a good thing with Zoe. Don’t risk it.”

“Are we just gonna ignore the fact that they know one another?” asks Hugo, grinning. “Which means we might know her.”

I roll my eyes. “Because you know all of Zoe’s friends?”

His eyes narrow. “So, this woman is a friend of Zoe’s.”

I groan. I’ve already said way too much, and I push to stand while draining the last of my pint. “Don’t go,” says Jimmy. “We need to know.”

“As much as I’d love to sit here and be strung up by you losers, I have places to be.”

Zoe

Meg checks her watch again. “She’s not usually late.”

“Maybe her date’s going well,” I suggest. I made sure Sofia dressed casual but nice, so she was ready for after-work drinks with her boss.

“Did she say where she was meeting him?”

“We can’t turn up,” I say firmly.

“But what if it’s not going well?” asks Meg, looking worried.

“She would’ve sent us a text message.”

“We don’t have to interrupt her, just check from a distance.”

I groan. “We can walk past the bar, but we’re not going in.”

Meg stands, smiling. “Okay, deal.”

We walk the five minutes it takes to get to the wine bar where Sofia told me she was going with her boss. Only as we approach, we spot Sofia with a group of people. “That’s weird. She said it was a date, didn’t she?” asks Meg.

I nod, equally as confused. “Let’s go before she sees us,” I say, turning around. “Maybe we got it wrong.”

We head back to the original bar we’d previously arranged to meet Sofia at, and it’s another half-hour before she shows up.

She’s smiling wide, which is great to see, and when she flops down in the chair at our table, she gives a happy sigh.

I exchange a grin with Meg. “About time,” I say, looking at my watch.

“Sorry about that. I was having such a nice time.”

“You could’ve stayed,” says Meg. “We wouldn’t have minded.”

“He had to get home,” she says, waving her hand dismissively.

“So, how did it go?” I ask.

“He’s nice. We chatted for ages.”

“And it was just you and him?” asks Meg, I give her a subtle kick under the table, because what does it matter if she was alone or with a group?

“Yeah,” says Sofia dreamily. Meg arches a brow in my direction, and I roll my eyes.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” I tell her. “Are you seeing him again?”

“We swapped numbers,” she says, standing. “I need a pee then I’ll get us a drink.”

Meg waits until she’s out of earshot. “Well?” she demands.

“Well, what?”

“Don’t you think it’s weird?”

“Maybe to her it felt like a date.”

“But why wouldn’t she just tell us it was drinks after work?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

“I’m just worried about her,” Meg admits. “She’s acting so out of character, and after all that stuff with Harry, I guess I’m extra worried.”

“Maybe she’s just getting her shit back on track,” I suggest. “I don’t think we need to worry.”

I watch Sofia as she carries a tray of drinks back to the table, and my eyes fall to her feet. Then I spot the handbag she dropped by the chair. As she sits, I point it out. “What’s with the bag and trainers?”

She lifts her foot to show us closer. “Aren’t they amazing?”

“They are,” I agree, “and super pricey.”

She waves her hand a second time. “They were from work. Apparently, brands send us samples, and we get to keep them.”

I frown. “Are you sure that’s how it works, because those trainers alone are a couple grand.”

“What?” screeches Meg, and I nod.

“Amelia said she was in charge of all that stuff being the fashion editor,” says Sofia with a shrug. “She practically begged me to take them.”

Something doesn’t sit right, and Meg must feel the same because she looks even more worried. “Maybe you should check though,” I say gently, “just to make sure.”

“Look, Amelia isn’t the kind of girl you check up on,” says Sofia, shaking her head. “Trust me, she’s the original mean girl type, and right now, she’s being nice to me, so I’m not questioning her.”

I take my drink and down half of it, wincing at the sweetness of the cocktail. “Just be careful,” I warn.

“Speaking of mean girls,” says Meg. “Ashley called me earlier to see if Dan had spoken to me today. Apparently, he wasn’t picking up her calls.”

“She’s got no shame,” I snap. “First, she steals your husband, and now, she wants to know his every move by asking you?”

“It’s my own fault,” says Meg. “When she gave birth, I was in the moment and stupidly said we should try to get along because our kids were now half-siblings.” She groans.

“It was a huge mistake because now she feels like she can call me to track Dan. I mean, seriously, I had enough of tracking him when I was married to him. Now, I don’t care where he is. It isn’t my problem.”

“Doesn’t Hugo mind?” asks Sofia.

The mention of Hugo’s name brings a smile to Meg’s lips. “He’s with me, and he thinks I should just tell her straight.”

“I agree with Hugo,” I say. “You need to set some boundaries.”

“How?” she asks. “I don’t want to cause any problems. She might make it harder for Dan to see Izzy.”

“If Dan lets that happen, then he’s a bigger prick than I thought,” I say. “Just start ignoring her calls. Maybe only answer if Izzy is staying with them?”

Meg nods in agreement. “You’re right. Maybe I’ll talk to Dan about it.”

“Isn’t Hugo out with his brothers tonight?” asks Sofia, changing the subject. Meg nods. “Why don’t we head over to meet them for a few?”

We’re all in agreement, so we head off to their local pub.

Hugo, Jimmy, and Seb are watching football on the large screen television. There’s no sign of Eric, and I’m disappointed, but I agree to have one drink, and then I decide to head off to his place to spend some time with him.