Page 72 of Love or Your Money Back

CHAPTER

I take a seat at my large, corner office desk, open my laptop and take a deep breath.

I am getting married today. I’ve achieved yet another major life goal. Surely I should feel excited? Relieved? Something.

‘Kat?’ Duncan knocks tentatively on my office door. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thank you, Duncan,’ I say. ‘What do you have there? Doughnuts and Coca-Cola?’

‘Yes.’ Duncan places the bag of reduced-sticker doughnuts and can of Coke on my desk.

‘That’s a lot of sugar,’ I observe. ‘I thought you were cutting down?’

‘I am.’ Duncan pats his much flatter stomach. ‘I am living vicariously. This is your birthday present.’

‘Thank you, I –’

‘Knock, knock, boss lady!’ Gabriela strides into my office, dressed in a smart wool dress, chequered scarf and knee-high boots. Her high tog rating has been classed up considerably.

Alan follows, fashionable in his new red-framed glasses, his white-grey hair chopped and styled. He has completely ditched the leather these days, including his platform cherry-red Doc Martins.

I smile as champagne, chocolates and a birthday card are placed on my desk.

‘Thanks guys.’

The card shows a pair of ruby slippers and says: ‘A good pair of shoes can take you far.’

‘In the Wizard of Oz book, Dorothy’s magic shoes were silver, of course,’ I point out. ‘But no one remembers that now. Hollywood told a better story.’

I place the card next to the photo of my mother.

‘Okay, well.’ I snap my laptop closed. ‘The publishing schedule looks on track. I know you can handle things while I’m gone. Time to get married.’

I stand, grabbing my carry-on. Duncan, Gabriela and Alan block my path.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘We don’t think you should marry Chris.’ Duncan frowns under his flat cap.

‘You can do better.’ Gabriela crosses her arms.

‘Look, I know Chris isn’t perfect,’ I admit.

‘HE’S A TOSSER!’ Alan bellows.

There’s an awkward silence. Then Gabriela adds, ‘We just think you should give Freddy a chance. He’s been calling and messaging every day –’

I snort. ‘No, thank you. Freddy has already shown me his true colours.’

‘He made a mistake,’ says Gabriela. ‘How many extravagant gifts does he have to send? If you could just forgive him –’

‘Freddy is way too high risk,’ I say. ‘The chances of him settling down are a million to one. Anyway, he’s all about transactional relationships. Selfish, through and through. Why are we even having this conversation? I’m getting married

today.’

‘If Freddy is so selfish, why has he offered to sell us his share of Big Voice for fifty pounds?’ Duncan pipes up.

I frown. ‘Duncan, have you been sniffing the Tippex again?’

Gabriela gives me sincere eyes. ‘It’s true, Kat. We think it’s another apology of sorts. Freddy is offering you total ownership of Big Voice, complete with our Penguin Random House distribution deal, for fifty pounds.’

I stare for a moment, struggling to digest this information. Then I push past.

‘This doesn’t mean Freddy is decent. It’s guilt money, that’s all.

Freddy slept with me and did a runner, and now he’s trying to get himself off the hook.

But what the hell? Let’s take advantage of that and get our company back.

Good riddance to Freddy Stark and everything he represents.

Now I have a wedding to go to. Wish me luck. ’

Nobody does.

On the walk to St Pancras station, it starts snowing. I tip-toe over trenches of snow outside the British Library, hopping onto gritted sections of pavement. Ironically, there is a wedding going on at my favourite British landmark.

I slow my step, watching uniformed people hurry back and forth with flowers, magnum champagne bottles and silver catering trays. It’s a little painful, seeing a proper wedding. Like the world is rubbing it in.

But Gretna Green will be fun. Right? So why do I feel so empty?

I glance at my wheelie bag, feeling a little sorry for the beautiful wedding dress squashed inside. Chris and I will take the train to wintery Scotland, where I will be married with no friends or relatives in attendance. The dress deserves better. Perhaps I should wear jeans and woollens instead.

It will be okay. Sure, it feels a little … not depressing

. Underwhelming, I suppose. But when does life ever turn out exactly the way you imagined it?

I carry on walking.

St Pancras station is bright with festive lights, and a giant, illuminated Christmas tree made entirely of classic books.

On the upper level, I see the Meeting Place Statue and feel inexplicably tired.

The giant, bronze man and woman embrace each other, oblivious to the chaos and noise of the station, carving out their moment in time.

Are the couple greeting each other or saying goodbye? Mum never said. I always thought they were saying goodbye, of course, because Mum took her train to the infinite not long after she helped on the project. But maybe they are

reuniting after a long journey …

I touch the bronze woman’s giant shoe. Truthfully, it is a little out of proportion.

‘I did it, Mum,’ I whisper. ‘I’m getting married. It’s the right decision, isn’t it? You’d tell me if not? You’d give me a sign?’

My phone bleeps and a message from Chris flashes up: ‘Running five minutes late.’

Ugh. I’d forgotten this about Chris. He’s always late, and five minutes usually means ten –

‘Happy birthday, Kat.’ A familiar voice rumbles at my shoulder.

My stomach does a flip.

Slowly, I turn around.

Freddy stands behind me wearing a sharp, black suit with a red tie. He holds a large, white envelope.

‘What are you doing here?’ I demand, voice low. ‘And what’s with the envelope? Are you delivering spy papers or something?’

‘I hear you’re marrying Chris,’ says Freddy. ‘I’ve been sent to talk you out of it. I am an excellent salesperson after all.’

‘There’s nothing you can say to me,’ I insist.

‘Good salespeople don’t just say

things.’ Freddy pulls documents from his white envelope and hands them to me. ‘They offer great deals. Here. Try this one on for size.’

Grudgingly, I take the papers. ‘What is this? I already know you’re offering me your Big Voice shares for a ridiculously low sum –’

‘This has nothing to do with Big Voice,’ says Freddy. ‘Just read.’

I scan text. ‘This is an offer of …’ My eyes widen. ‘Of marriage

. Good god

, Freddy. You do know I’m marrying Chris today, right? This is no time for jokes.’

‘It’s no joke. Keep reading.’

I do.

‘Mr Freddy Stark offers Ms Katerina Friedman marriage, with a lifetime guarantee. The offer includes a wedding, residence of the Client’s choosing and generous financial provision for life, matched to the rate of inflation.

The first six months will be a trial period, during which time Mr Stark must prove to Ms Friedman that he can deliver on his promises of love and metaphorical fireworks . ..’

I look up. ‘Freddy. This isn’t funny.’

‘Of course it’s not funny,’ says Freddy. ‘My legal team drew it up. There isn’t a funny bone between them.’

‘You’re asking me to marry you?’

‘Better than that,’ says Freddy. ‘I’m asking you to marry me with a lifetime guarantee.

People trot out those ‘til death I do part’ vows in church, but there’s no legal obligation to stay married forever.

This is different. I’m committing to you for the rest of my life.

Legally. It’s the opposite of a prenup. And

you can cancel at any time. See?’

Freddy indicates a paragraph at the bottom of the page that says:

‘ No commitment needed. Cancel at any time with all legal fees paid by the other party

.’

I look up. ‘You’re crazy.’

‘Nope. I just know how to put a good offer together.’ Freddy reaches into the envelope and pulls out a sparkling emerald ring. ‘And this could be the deal breaker.’

I stare.

‘A little piece of the Emerald City,’ says Freddy. ‘Well, a big piece. Eighteen carats. Vintage 1930s, made the same year the Wizard of Oz

was published.’ Freddy holds the ring out to me. ‘I had it inscribed too. Take a look.’

Against my better judgement, I take the ring and read the words etched inside the gold band:

Love, or your money back.

I fight a smile. The smile wins.

‘Let’s see if it fits.’ Freddy takes my hand. ‘In sales, we call this the puppy dog close. Take the puppy home. If you don’t like it, bring it back. Of course, the hope is you fall in love with the puppy. Maybe you’ll feel the same way when you see this ring on your finger.’

‘You are quite something, Freddy Stark. Do you know that?’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Freddy slides the gold band on my finger. ‘Well, look at that. Perfect fit.’

The smile takes over my whole face. ‘I have to hand it to you, Freddy. You are an excellent salesperson.’

‘Oh yeah –’

‘Hey. HEY!’ Chris strides towards us, rolling a tartan suitcase behind him. He has combined an Aaron jumper and flapping kilt with Adidas trainers and a baseball cap and has the air of a mental asylum about him. ‘What are you doing with my fiancée? Let go

of her hand –’

I drop my hand from Freddy’s, eyes softening. ‘Chris.’

Chris slows to a stop. ‘What is Freddy Stark

doing here?’

I swallow. ‘Chris, I’m sorry. I really am. But I can’t marry you. I’m worth more.’

Chris’s eyes bulge. ‘But everything is booked. I paid an extra eighty pounds for a Travel Lodge plus room for our wedding night. Five extra square metres of space, plus free highland shortbread biscuits and a Nespresso machine. And the train tickets are non-refundable.’

‘I’ll pay you back.’ Freddy gives Chris a hearty slap on the shoulder.

Chris looks between Freddy and me. ‘Is there something going on between you two?’

‘Freddy just made me a really good offer,’ I say. ‘I’m going to accept. Which means I can’t come to Scotland.’

‘All’s fair in sales,’ says Freddy.

‘Kat.’ Chris looks like he’s about to be sick. ‘You can’t embarrass me like this. What will everyone say? They’re going to think I’m a total loser.’

‘To be fair,’ says Freddy, ‘I reckon a lot of people have already come to that conclusion.’

‘Shut up!’ Chris rages. ‘Just because you caught me off guard at Ascot … you can’t do

this. Kat is my fiancée.’

‘We should get going, darling.’ Freddy puts a hand on my shoulder. ‘We have a wedding to attend.’

‘Excuse me?’ I blink at him. ‘A wedding?’

‘Yes.’ Freddy rocks back and forth on his expensive shoes. ‘You want to get married before you turn 35, don’t you? And since it’s your birthday today, I arranged the wedding ceremony for this afternoon. We need to get you to hair and makeup. Let’s go.’

‘You’re not serious.’ My stomach clenches. ‘You have a wedding

planned for me? Right now

?’

‘Yes,’ says Freddy. ‘All your family and friends are waiting.’

‘ Where

?’

‘The British Library.’

‘We can’t get married at the British Library today,’ I say. ‘There’s already a wedding going on there … oh. My. God.’ Realisation clicks. ‘All those people at the British Library, running back and forth with flowers and champagne. Are they something to do with you

?’

‘Yes they are.’ Freddy looks pleased with himself.

‘This is insane.’

‘There’s a fine line between genius and insanity,’ says Freddy. ‘I like to think I straddle that line perfectly.’

‘I am lost for words.’

‘Well, you only need one.’ Freddy gives me his most charming smile. ‘Yes.’

‘Kat.’ Chris takes a hesitant step forward. ‘Think of the Travel Lodge plus hotel room. Free shortbread and a minibar

. And I’ve reserved us train seats next to the phone-charging sockets.’

‘Freddy.’ I turn to him. ‘Where do I sign?’