Nice Day For A White Wedding Read online Georgia Le Carre

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
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“Or whisky in your case.”

“Actually, I was a bit more of a vodka drinker before I moved to London.”

We finish the vodka and I have to say I’m kind of glad when it’s gone. I’m definitely a gin girl through and through.

“Would you like to go through to the bar for drinks, or do you want to head back to the house?”

“It depends on the drinks,” I say. The vodka is loosening my tongue. I can hear the flirty tone to my voice. I’m pretty certain drinking anything else would not be a good idea, no matter what it is, but what the hell. The worst part is Alex doesn’t look like he’s even a tiny bit tipsy.

“You can have whatever you want,” he says suavely. “The vodka thing is a rite of passage, like drinking a pint of Guinness in Dublin, even though the stuff is vile. You don’t have to have any more.”

“A drink it is then,” I decide with a lopsided smile. The truth is I can’t bear for the night to be over.

Cindy

Alex nods and we stand up, then I follow him through to the bar area. It is smaller than the restaurant and the lights are subtly dimmed. He tells me to find a seat while he goes to the bar. I bristle at his commanding tone, but a small part of me likes the way he takes control of a situation … of me. It makes me ponder what he’d be like in bed. Dominant I imagine. Dominant and extremely skilled.

I take an empty table in the back corner. A small candle flickers in the center of the low table. I swallow hard. Anything could happen with Alex and I in a place like this. A place where no one will be able to see what we’re doing.

I shake my head slightly to clear it. Whoa! That vodka must be hitting my brain cells.

I’m not going to throw myself at Alex, with or without vodka. After what happened this morning it would be too pathetic. Besides he’s my boss. This is business. I have to treat this like a business meeting, not a damned date. I’ve already embarrassed myself tonight by acting jealous of his stupid ex. I’m not going to embarrass myself further.

Alex comes to the table and confirms everything I already know by taking the seat opposite me instead of sitting down beside me on the plush sofa. It annoys me even more when I feel a pang of disappointment. My body wanted to be able to feel his leg pressed against mine, the heat coming off his body.

He pushes my drink towards me and I smile when I see the slice of orange in it. He remembered. I pick my glass up and take a sip. The gin and tonic is heaven after the neat vodka.

I put my glass down and lean back. “Have you never wanted to get married?”

“That’s a bit out of the blue,” he murmurs, studying me above the rim of his glass.

“I don’t really know what made me ask it. The question came into my mind, and it popped out of my mouth before I had chance to think about it. I blame the vodka. And the wine.”

“I’ve never met anyone I could imagine spending forever with. What about you?”

“I always seem to hook up with Mr. Wrong,” I say. “It got so bad I swore off dating forever.”

“And yet here we are.” Alex drawls. “It’s a good job this is fake. I would hate to compromise your principals.”

Must be the vodka, or the lack of lighting, but the look on his face as he says it tells me, actually, he would very much like to compromise my principals. I take a very, very large gulp of my drink. It goes down the wrong way and makes me cough.

“It’s a good job then that we’re both on the same page and nothing will be compromised,” I gasp.

He frowns suddenly and I know whatever moment of weakness in him is gone. He finishes his drink and asks me if I’m ready to leave. Since he still seems mostly sober, it makes sense that he’s the one to take control and put an end to the madness. I nod and stand. As we make our way out to the waiting car, he keeps a safe distance between us. We sit at opposite ends of the back seat, not touching.

I look out of the window, peering through the darkness at the passing houses and then at the countryside. Alex looks out of his window too, but like me, I have a feeling he’s not seeing anything.

I’m filled with regret at what might have been, but can’t be. I’m missing something I never even had. I tell myself it doesn’t matter. That it’s only the alcohol making me feel this way, and tomorrow, when I’m sober again and no doubt hung over, I’ll be back to normal again. Just a girl with a crush and nothing more.



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