Page 4 of Love or Your Money Back

CHAPTER

Two Weeks Earlier …

In the spirit of positive change, Freddy brings with him a taste of the future: a top-of-the-range barista espresso machine with a milk-frothing arm. He has decorated the machine with a jaunty, red bow and walks into the Little Voice offices whistling like a proud parent.

As Freddy enters the drab, open-plan space, he hears Kat shouting down the phone:

‘No, you listen to me. You HAVE to stock this book. What are you talking about, no room? You are Book Haven. You have hundreds of stores all over the country. You have shelf-loads of space, pun intended. This is the best book I have read in years. YEARS –’

Freddy watches with quiet admiration as Kat screeches at one of Europe’s biggest book retailers.

Totally the wrong approach, of course, but he admires her passion, if not her outfit.

The lumpy, woollen monstrosity hiding Kat’s figure is only eclipsed in hideousness by her shoes: comfortable lace-ups, usually worn by nurses and waiting staff.

Her hair, as usual, looks like she’s done nothing more to it than go to bed and wake up.

Freddy sets the espresso machine down on a nearby shelf that holds instant coffee, powdered milk, a travel kettle and nine ‘European Diverse Publisher of the Year’ trophies.

The shelf breaks, throwing various powders all over the floor with an almighty crash. Luckily, the espresso machine is boxed and protected by polystyrene. The awards don’t fare so well, though. One of them breaks.

Kat’s head snaps up. Her thick, dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail so tight it is almost facelift territory, but this does nothing to tame the halo of frizz waving its way up towards the fluorescent lights.

‘I’ll call you back,’ Kat slams the phone down. Then she glares at the pile of sugar, instant coffee and glass on the floor. ‘You broke one of our trophies.’

‘Yeah, it’s amazing you can win all those awards and still not turn a stable profit,’ says Freddy.

‘Well, awards don’t always equal cash,’ says Kat. ‘I hope you’re going to clear that mess up. You just destroyed our kitchenette.’

Freddy looks around. ‘What kitchenette?’

‘Our kitchenette.’ Kat points to the wall space where the shelf used to be.

‘That’s not a kitchenette,’ says Freddy. ‘It’s a shelf. Was a shelf.’ He retrieves the espresso maker and holds it aloft. ‘I bought you a present. You’ll love it. I’ve got one at my apartment. It’s the best coffee maker on the market.’

Katerina’s focus returns to her computer. ‘What do you want, Freddy? Please tell me, then leave.’

Freddy perches on Kat’s desk, placing the espresso maker next to her keyboard.

He admits he’s crossing his arms in such a way that it plumps out his biceps.

But Kat doesn’t even incline her head in his direction.

Feeling awkward, he reaches for a framed photo of a wild-haired woman and a little girl, holding hands in a field of poppies.

‘Is this you, my darling?’

‘What?’ Kat’s gaze stays firmly on her computer screen.

‘The little girl in this photo looks like you. She’s smiling. I’m very

confused.’

‘I smile. Just never when you’re around.’

Freddy reads the neat, hand-written ink under the photograph. ‘ It’s not where you go. It’s who you meet along the way.

Who’s the Wizard of Oz

fan?’

Kat’s head snaps up. ‘How do you know that’s a quote from the Wizard of Oz

?’

‘I’ve read the book.’

Kat’s gaze returns to her computer. ‘I didn’t have you down as a reader.’

‘I read at least a book a month. Sometimes more.’

‘It doesn’t count if the main characters are called Tiffy and Bingo –’

‘Is that your mother?’ Freddy taps the photo frame.

‘ Was

my mother. She died.’

‘When?’

Kat stiffens. ‘When I was seventeen.’

‘And she liked the Wizard of Oz

?’

‘Yes. When my dad left, friends were important to her.’

‘A lot of good messages in that book,’ says Freddy. ‘About the power of dreams.’

‘I imagine the Wizard of Oz is a good role model for you,’ Kat snaps. ‘That little man hiding behind the curtain. All style over substance.’

‘The Wizard of Oz is not style over substance,’ says Freddy. ‘He’s a marketing guru. Showing the world how powerful perception can be. If you believe in something enough, you can make it come true. But we can quibble over our literary interpretations. Tell me. What’s your favourite book?’

Kat hesitates. ‘Jayne Eyre.’

‘Romance?’ Freddy holds down a smile. ‘Who’d have thought?’

‘Can I help you with something, Freddy Stark? I’m very busy –’

‘Shouting at people on the phone?’

‘Yes.’ Kat’s lips go even tighter. ‘I was just talking to an idiot who doesn’t know a good book when it hits him in the face.’

‘And who is this idiot, exactly?’

‘Michael Salmon.’

Freddy gives a mighty roar of laughter. ‘Michael Salmon? The owner of Book Haven? Wow, you need to learn a thing or two about building relationships.’

‘I don’t need to build relationships with that man,’ says Kat. ‘He’ll never stock our books. This is just the yearly argument I have to have to cross him off our list. We have a love/hate relationship with Book Haven.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means we’d love them to stock our books, but they hate us.’

‘Well, that’s why I’m here,’ says Freddy. ‘To make partnerships and find the win-win.’

‘We’re better off targeting the smaller, independent booksellers,’ Kat insists. ‘Basement shops that smell a little damp. They’re our people. Anyway, you can’t win-win with Michael. That man plays it so safe with his book purchases, it’s amazing he doesn’t sell books from a nuclear bunker.’

‘He must be doing something right,’ says Freddy. ‘He owns the biggest bookstore chain in Europe.’

‘He’s a moron,’ says Kat. ‘He won’t take our lead title because he says it’s too long.’

‘Well, how long is it?’

Kat hesitates. ‘One thousand pages.’

‘A one- thousand

-page book?’

‘It did run away with us a little,’ Kat admits. ‘We probably should have edited it down more, but we were … um … under-resourced at the time. And it’s a wonderful body of work.’ She looks steadfastly at her computer. ‘It’s a study of the many different types of marriage.’

‘A one-thousand-page book about marriage?’ Freddy laughs. ‘I could write that book in two words. Don’t bother.’

‘Marriage provides security for women,’ says Kat. ‘Especially if they have children. My parents didn’t marry and … well, anyway. I’m not saying marriage is for everybody, but …’

‘You want to get married?’

Kat swallows. ‘Maybe.’

‘I’m pretty sure you do,’ says Freddy. ‘It’s on that vision board over there. ‘Get married before I turn 35.’ Right after, ‘create award-winning publishing company’ and ‘buy a house in Bloomsbury.’

Kat blushes deeply. ‘That vision board should have been updated. The last goal needs to be removed.’

‘Why? Are you older than 35?’

‘No. I’m 34.’

‘When is your birthday?’

‘December.’

‘So? That’s ten months away –’

‘Look, if you’re here to talk business, then talk. If not, go away.’

‘Sure. Okay. Actually, I wanted to ask about your lead title.’

‘It’s called The Conjugal Chronicles

– a cultural examination of matrimony.’

‘Catchy title.’

‘Isn’t it? I love the alliteration –’

Freddy cuts her off with a sharp laugh. ‘I was being sarcastic. That title only makes sense if you have a literature degree. You should change it.’ He reaches for Kat’s phone. ‘Let me call Michael. See if I can sell this book to him better than you can.’

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Kat shrieks, trying to grab the phone.

‘Watch and learn.’ Freddy dodges her and hits redial.