Page 26 of Hit For Six (Balls and Banter #1)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Lola

It was Lola’s first time in Germany. She might have preferred the chocolate box scenery of the Black Forest, a weekend in Berlin to catch the city’s vibrant Pride celebration, or a trip to the beer festival in Munich.

Alas she was in the middle of the skyscraper forest of Frankfurt for a busy trade fair.

So far so good, though. It had been surprisingly gratifying to put faces to names, she’d secured a heap of orders for the frontlist, and she’d witnessed some dazzling burnt-orange and crimson sunsets as she’d trekked back to her hotel across the bridge that straddled the Main.

But somehow she knew that this would be the first business trip for Harry and the last.

Actually, there were some prettier parts to the city; one such being the (rebuilt) old quarter of Sachsenhausen and its cobbled streets, where she’d been treated to a seriously enlightening dinner with her female counterpart, Rosie, from the sister branch of Celebrations and Commiserations last night.

Over steak with a dreamy pepper sauce (Lola couldn’t bring herself to sample the Frankfurter sausages– they looked too much like fingers) and Apfelstrudel, washed down with lashings of crisp Riesling, she discovered that a group of women were pooling their complaints about Julian with a view to going to the police. Would Lola like to join them?

Whilst she knew this could bring the Bath branch into disrepute, she had to think of the bigger picture.

Lola would not be silenced. Besides, she hadn’t signed an NDA, and maybe she could leave C and C sooner than she realised.

Because a very exciting email had flown into her inbox earlier this morning.

When Lola had gingerly clicked on it, she’d whooped at the news that her business loan had been approved in principle.

Which meant that her long-held hopes and dreams about running a travel agency that specialised in musical theatre holidays might one day become a reality.

The bank loved the idea and all her business planning had come across as sound and viable.

She was just tucking into tonight’s room service meal when her phone trilled unexpectedly.

‘Oh!’ She quickly swallowed her mouthful of food, cursing herself for multitasking. Now her voice would sound deeply unattractive and like she had a throat stuffed with cotton wool. ‘It’s… you. How are things going there, Monty?’

Lola had barely had a moment to think about him until his number appeared on her mobile’s screen.

So much had happened in the space of twenty-four hours.

Frankfurt was also an excellent place for trying to forget that Monty existed, and that the past week and a bit of her life hadn’t taken place.

Okay, that was a lie. Every time a potential client had enquired about the wedding card ranges on her stand, Lola’d had ridiculous visions of herself in a gorgeous Oscar de la Renta gown with a purple posy in her hands as she fairy-stepped down the aisle to a beaming Monty, bridesmaids and page boys trailing after her.

But other than that, she felt like a bitch. Because no matter which way she examined her attraction to the guy– and vice versa– it could never, ever be made to work. She had to be cruel to be kind.

‘Like a dream!’ Yep, that was one way of summing up Lola’s life right now, too. ‘Everything’s under control.’ She hoped she could soon say the same regarding her affairs.

‘Great. So Squiffy’s eating and drinking, and doing her business in the litter tray as opposed to the garden?’

Why did it feel as if they were talking about their baby? Lola slapped herself on the cheek.

‘Tick, tick, tick. And she gives the best cuddles. I love her to bits already.’

His voice sounded impossibly familiar, as if they’d known one another for a lifetime.

Lola needed to snap herself out of this folly, even if her heart refused to stop glowing.

She’d politely finish the call and get back to her meal.

After which she thoroughly intended to make use of the car-sized bath and its lotions and potions, then she’d have a Netflix binge.

Fumiko’s TV only had the basic channels.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you… stepping in. Is there anything I can bring you back from Germany as a thank you?’

‘Just yourself.’

‘Monty!’

‘What?’

‘I was referring to souvenirs.’

‘And I’m referring to the thing you agreed to help me with.’

Why did her heart sink? Lola had set the boundaries.

Why did she keep expecting this man to do the impossible, leaping over them to declare his undying love?

He’d tried that once at The Bubble Bath and it had got him nowhere.

It stood to reason that he wouldn’t keep putting himself out there only to get rejected.

‘Okay, well, in that case–’

‘Good. So, we’re all set for Friday?’ he interrupted, and she was glad because she hadn’t a clue how she was going to finish that sentence. ‘I’ll pick you up at five-thirty. Hopefully that’s not too early?’

‘Five-thirty is good. The office closes an hour earlier on a Friday. Is there a dress code?’

‘Nah. Wear whatever.’

‘Monty…’ Lola suddenly panicked. ‘It’s not…

putting together furniture, is it?’ She blew air from her cheeks, the very thought stressing her out.

‘I’m really not good at following instructions.

Especially IKEA ones.’ Actually, LEGO had caused her just as much heartache as a kid and she’d ended up lobbing the bricks out her bedroom window, but they weren’t going there.

‘I-I don’t know if it’s because I’m too impatient or if it’s my SPD and everything going over the top of my head.

I’m the same with lefts and rights. You should have seen me yesterday when I got lost trying to find Hall 8 after I’d been given precise instructions.

It’s the same with East and West, knife and fork… even Ant and Dec.’

Lola didn’t need to see Monty to know that he was chewing back the biggest grin.

‘I promise I am not trying to belittle your condition, but damn, you are so cute, Lola.’ Her pulse ratcheted.

So silly. They weren’t even in close proximity.

‘And I can assure you that you’re not alone with the Ant and Dec thing.

It is a bloody puzzle.’ Okay, now she felt a bit better.

‘No, there will definitely be no putting furniture together. Most of mine consists of antique hand-me-downs from my parents.’ Oh, god.

He really was posh, wasn’t he? He’d probably never even been to an IKEA.

‘Is there anything else I should be aware of?

Lola took a deep breath. How much to say?

‘Well, there are a few things that I suppose I ought to highlight, just in case. I’m not particularly keen on sand between my toes, and I’m even less enamoured with beaches where I can see the tiniest speck of litter in the distance.

Then… erm… I’m a bit of a nightmare with certain food textures.

Avocados are an absolute no, which is tricky because I’m probably the only person in the world who can’t stand them. ’

‘I wasn’t planning on taking you to Weston-super-Mare this time, so no worries on that front. I think you’ll be fine with the thing I’ve got in mind. I’m hoping you might even enjoy it.’

Squiffy miaowed in agreement.

‘I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad sign.’

Monty laughed.

‘And the fact that you despise avocados as much as me makes you my dream woman… although, you could have backed me up and got your arse frowned at in the Roly Poly, too, the other morning when I critiqued the specials combo out loud and riled the guy behind the counter.’

Now it was Lola’s turn to laugh.

‘No way. I was relishing the opportunity to watch somebody else party poop on the darling avocado’s parade. It’s the rarest of events.’

‘Oh, you were, were you?’ said Monty, in such a way that Lola was in no doubt that if they were in the same room right now, he’d chase her around it until he’d tickled her into submission.

To take her mind very swiftly off what that might involve, she asked what something else would involve:

‘Can’t you give me a clue as to what it entails? Just a little one?’

Lola pushed her tray across the bed, suddenly unable to resist the pull of the mini bar.

She should have ordered a glass of wine with her meal but she really had intended not to touch any alcohol tonight.

It went hand in hand with these fairs and she couldn’t cope with another fuzzy head tomorrow morning.

But a miniature bottle of champagne wouldn’t hurt.

Harry had given her carte blanche with the company credit card and insisted that she made up for lost time.

While she didn’t want to give her boss the satisfaction of falling for the cheap thrill, she sensed that she might end up chatting to Monty a little longer.

She could hardly do that with the veggie risotto that was now going cold on her plate, but some fizz would be a relaxing accompaniment.

‘After you let me be the anti-avocado scapegoat? I don’t think so.’

Monty cackled mock evilly. At least Lola hoped he was pretending when Squiffy was in his care.

She crawled over to the mini bar, nudged the phone under her chin, grabbed the bottle and opener, yanked the top off, and drank straight from it. Ungraceful but necessary.

‘So, we’re in a point scoring game now?’

‘It would appear that way… unless you have something else to talk about.’

Five minutes later, effervescence swimming in her stomach and lust flooding her veins, since Monty had sent her some adorable selfies with Squiffy, suddenly Lola had to tell him everything:

Julian, the dress, her colleagues and their weird behaviour, and finally… her parents’ awful situation. She omitted the handouts she was giving her mum. And she decided to take Maxine’s hint to stay silent about her business until it was set up and ready to go.

Just as she was terrified he would be, Monty turned out to be the most incredible listener. Patient, waiting for the right moment to ask the right questions, understanding, supportive and kind.

Two hours after she’d bared her soul, Lola’s eyelids grew heavy, and, although she’d madden every mindfulness coach on the planet, she fell asleep clutching her phone to her heart.