The Break Up: The perfect heartwarming romantic comedy

by Tilly Tennant

  Fifteen minutes and a leisurely walk later, Lara arrived at her destination to meet Chloe. If she was being entirely honest, she wasn’t altogether sure she wanted this booking, but she knew that she probably needed it. She’d spoken briefly to Chloe on the phone and found it difficult to warm to her, and she was even less enthused by the timing. Chloe’s wedding was just over two weeks away. Lara had immediately checked she had the weekend free and been almost disappointed to find that she had. Two weeks didn’t give her much time, though Chloe had reassured her that there wasn’t a lot for Lara to do except be there on the day to oversee proceedings.

  In the end, Lara’s business brain had won the argument and she’d agreed to at least come and talk to Chloe for a more in-depth picture. If she still felt uneasy about her role she could always refuse the job at that point, even though she had to acknowledge that it would probably annoy the hell out of her prospective client. The way Lara saw it, though, better to refuse a booking than to take it and find she couldn’t cope, because that might end up annoying the client even more and ruin Lara’s slow-growing reputation into the bargain. People were quick to write up and share experiences of services they’d received these days and the last thing Lara wanted was bad reviews from a disastrous day.

  The building where Chloe worked looked surprisingly rundown. The large external windows were tinted so that the interior couldn’t be seen from the street, but the outside, where faded painted signage bore the name of the firm and mortar was missing from in between bricks in large chunks, gave clues to what the inside might be like.

  Lara was proved right as she passed from the bright street to a drab reception furnished by a dark wooden counter and barely illuminated by a dull strip light. A woman looked up from her computer as Lara approached, though she didn’t smile, even when Lara offered her brightest beam. Lara quickly concluded that she had met friendlier wasps. The law services offered here must be fantastic, she thought, because they certainly didn’t stay open by trading on their modern and welcoming offices, and certainly not on the charm of their staff either.

  ‘Yes, can I help you?’ the woman asked, though she looked as if she’d rather chew off her own arm than help anyone.

  ‘I’ve come to see Chloe,’ Lara said. ‘I’m Lara Nightingale – she’s expecting me.’

  The woman swivelled in her chair and yelled, making Lara jump. ‘Chlo! That woman’s here for ya!’

  She turned back to Lara, whose fixed smile didn’t slip for a second even as the woman glared at her. Quite what it was about Lara that offended her so much was anyone’s guess, though Lara had to reflect that if she was like this with a total stranger she had no reason to distrust, what must she be like with people she really hated? Lara decided then and there that she’d never put herself in a position to find out.

  A side door opened and a younger woman emerged. She was very slim, with poker-straight hair parted in the middle and dark eyes in a face that seemed far too small for the rest of her. She looked at Lara with perhaps even less warmth or humour in her expression than in her colleague’s. Perhaps, when Messrs Squire, Smith, Parton and Co. interviewed for staff, it was a stipulation that they be as miserable as possible. Possibly it was their unique selling point – all businesses had to have one, after all – and maybe some clients liked the dour vibe the place was giving off. If the people tasked with welcoming new clients were like this, what must the solicitors themselves be like? If this woman was Chloe (and Lara had to assume she was) it was difficult to imagine how the vivacious and bubbly Abbie could be friends with such a polar opposite. Perhaps Chloe was different when you knew her a little better – it was the only explanation Lara could think of.

  ‘Lara?’ the woman asked, walking to the counter and holding out a limp hand for her to shake.

  ‘Yes, hi,’ Lara said as she took it. ‘I’m a few minutes early, I know, but if it’s a problem…’ She shot a glance at the scary receptionist. ‘I thought the traffic might be worse than it was… I could come back in ten minutes or so…’

  ‘Oh, don’t mind her,’ Chloe said, waving a dismissive hand at the woman. ‘She takes an extended lunch break every day and thinks nobody notices. It’s my wedding and I think, just once, I can have ten minutes extra too.’

  ‘I do not!’ the woman cried.

  ‘Oh, don’t give me that, Joan,’ Chloe shot back. ‘Everyone knows it. In late, home early, long lunches… How you haven’t been sacked yet is beyond me.’

  She looked at Lara as the deeply offended Joan huffed, though she didn’t argue with anything that Chloe had said. Lara didn’t know what to do or say at suddenly finding herself in the middle of this – she simply gave Chloe a tight smile as she beckoned her to follow her round to the other side of the counter and through the side door from where she’d just appeared.

  Lara found herself in a room every bit as dark and drab as the reception. There were three desks in there, though only one was occupied as Chloe sat at a chair behind it and gestured to a vacant seat standing against the wall.

  ‘Pull up a chair.’

  Lara took it from the wall and placed it next to Chloe’s desk before sitting down. Her gaze caught a wire tray stacked with paperwork; if this was Chloe’s in tray, she had to feel sorry for her. Next to the tray was a framed photo of Chloe with a man around her age. They were dressed formally – him in a suit and Chloe in a gown of clinging red satin that flattered her slim figure – and they were holding what looked like flutes of champagne, smiling for the camera. This Chloe looked a lot happier and relaxed than the one sitting across from Lara now. Perhaps working in this building was the problem, and Lara could hardly blame her for that. Her own disposition, for the most part, tended towards sunny optimism, but even she’d struggle to be anything but miserable if she worked here.

  ‘That’s Gez,’ Chloe said, following Lara’s gaze. ‘We were at some posh do at the racecourse there. Something to do with his boss. I didn’t want to go but it turned out to be a nice party – lots of free bubbly.’

  ‘Ah,’ was all that Lara could think to say. ‘That’s a lovely dress.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ Chloe grinned. ‘Cost a fortune – but I managed to pin the sales tag back inside after I’d worn it that night and got my money back from the shop. No point in keeping what I’d never wear again, is there?’

  Lara was at even more of a loss as what to say to this. Chloe reached for a mug from her desk and took a sip. She didn’t seem too concerned with the usual convention of asking a guest if they wanted a drink, but perhaps she didn’t think that Lara counted as a guest. In fact Lara was thirsty, but she simply gave a professional smile. She’d get something on the way back to her car – there was a lovely little coffee shop on Chester’s famous Rows that did amazing Frappuccinos.

  ‘So… you just need me for the wedding day itself,’ Lara said, keen now to get down to business. Chloe leaned back in her chair.

  ‘Yeah. Like I said on the phone, everything is all sorted but I can’t be bothered with rushing about on the day.’

  ‘I can understand that. It’s not really for you to worry about things like that – it’s your big day after all, and the only thing you should be expected to do is shine.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘I mean, be the centre of attention and enjoy the moment with…’

  ‘Gez.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Oh, right. Yeah. So Abbie says you could do all that other crap.’

  ‘Everything is definitely booked?’

  ‘All of it. There’s nothing really for you to do but be on hand in case there are problems.’

  Something told Lara this might not turn out to be true, but she simply held on to her professional smile.

  ‘Really,’ Chloe continued, ‘it’s like getting paid to go to a party, isn’t it? Get pissed on our booze and get handed a wad of cash at the end of the night for the privilege. Nice work if you can get it – perhaps I ought to become a wedding planner.’

&n
bsp; ‘Actually, I usually ask for a bank transfer the day before the event,’ Lara replied, wondering if Chloe was going to follow her slightly disingenuous comment with a request for a discount. She really was having second thoughts about taking this booking now, though if Chloe had asked her why, she wouldn’t have been able to give a logical reason.

  ‘Could you do us cheaper for cash?’

  How Lara’s smile didn’t slip even at this point she’d never know, but it didn’t, and it was perhaps the greatest feat of diplomacy she’d ever performed. ‘I don’t deal in cash, I’m afraid – a bit too risky.’

  ‘If it was me I’d take cash. You could slip a few extra dos in if you did cash and you wouldn’t ever have to declare them for tax. Make a few more quid on the sly – know what I mean?’

  Chloe put her mug down and looked at Lara as if she thought Lara was a bit slow on the uptake and she felt sorry for her, as if she’d just told her the most obvious thing in the world. And maybe it was if you were the sort of person prepared to take the risk. Lara wasn’t. She didn’t really do risk and, even if she did, she would never do anything that might jeopardise the business she’d worked so hard to build, no matter how tempting a fast buck on the side might be.

  ‘In my line of business that’s harder than you might think,’ she said evenly.

  Chloe gave a careless shrug. ‘So you can’t do anything for cash?’

  ‘Not really. Sorry. I mean, if that puts you off then—’

  ‘You think we can’t afford you?’

  ‘Of course not. I just meant that you seemed to be keen on the cash transaction and as I can’t do it-’

  ‘That’s OK, we’ll do it your way; Gez’s family is loaded anyway.’

  Lucky Gez, Lara thought wryly. ‘So I’m assuming that most of your payments have also been made and that you’ve phoned ahead to your suppliers to check that the bookings are still good?’

  ‘I thought that’s what you did?’

  ‘Well, yes, I could do that but that’s not what you’re booking me for. Those things would have to be done around now – if not earlier – and you’re only booking me for the actual day…’

  Chloe’s brow knitted into a deep frown. ‘So you’re saying I’ve got to do it even though we’re paying you?’ She snatched up her mug again. ‘Abbie said that’s what you would do.’

  ‘I did that for Abbie because she asked me to organise from start to finish and it cost a lot more.’

  ‘It’s only a few phone calls…’

  ‘Look,’ Lara said, wanting now to leave more than anything. ‘I’m sure if you give me a list and it’s not too extensive I can sort something out if that’s what you want. But I wouldn’t usually and—’

  ‘I’ve got the list in my drawer somewhere,’ Chloe said, brightening again. ‘Stick us in your diary and send me the bill when you’ve done everything.’

  ‘I would need that bank transfer before the wedding,’ Lara reminded her, though she was certain Chloe couldn’t have forgotten the terms they’d discussed only a few short minutes before.

  ‘Course – whatever. Gez’s dad’s paying anyway. Can’t stand the bloke but he’s got to be good for something, right?’

  Lara gave another of those smiles she reserved for particularly difficult clients. It looked as if she was going to have to take this job despite her doubts, but at least it was only two weeks out of her life and then she’d never have to deal with Chloe again.

  ‘OK,’ she said. ‘So if you’ve got time now, we’ll go through all the details and take a look at your supplier list and I’ll get you booked in.’

  ‘Plenty of time,’ Chloe said. ‘Just let that old hag on reception try to drop me in it and I’ll spill her little secrets so fast she won’t have time to collect her handbag before she’s booted out on the street.’

  Lara’s smile, once again, was rock solid. Later she’d congratulate herself – she really was getting rather good at it.

  Seven

  Betsy had packed up and left work at around six. Lara had been telling her for an hour before that to go home, but Betsy had insisted on finishing the filing she’d started, and then she’d launched into a blow-by-blow account of every phone enquiry she’d dealt with in Lara’s absence, just so she’d know what to expect if or when they called back. Lara loved that her assistant was so dedicated and efficient but sometimes it was a little unnerving when Lara considered that Betsy might just be better at this job than she herself was, despite it being her business.

  Once Betsy had left and Lara had spent a few minutes tidying and locking up, she headed out to a late-opening pet superstore in a nearby retail park. With the work hours she kept, she’d often wondered during the past year what she’d do without late-opening shops. Her mum would always say she felt sorry for shop workers, who had to be on standby to work at any unsociable hour, and to a certain extent Lara did too, but she had to admit that her life would have been a lot more difficult without them. It was all very well ordering online, but some things she liked to get immediately.

  Like the basketful she was currently carrying to the till. It contained the finest cat food money could buy, bags and bags of Fluffy’s favourite cat treats and a much bigger bell than Betsy had bought to go with the snazzy silver collar she’d also picked up. Fluffy hadn’t been very keen on collars before and had managed to somehow lose three in the months leading up to this point. Lara had always assumed that he’d somehow managed to free himself from them, but now she suspected strongly that a human had done the freeing. She also suspected she might know who that human was, though the idea of it made her blood boil. She’d spent a lot of money on those collars and nobody had the right to take them off and dispose of them but her.

  ‘Oooh, this is nice stuff,’ the grey-haired lady at the till said with an approving nod at the cat food Lara had picked up. ‘There’s going to be a very happy puss at your house tonight.’

  ‘I hope so,’ Lara said, glad that the cashier had endorsed her purchase. A very happy puss was the general idea, after all. If Fluffy wouldn’t stay put of his own accord, then Lara was going to feed him so well that he wouldn’t even think of going anywhere else for his dinner. Either that or he’d get so fat he wouldn’t be able to wander – both scenarios were a winner as far as she was concerned. Although perhaps winning was the wrong way to look at it, she quickly reminded herself. Perhaps winning sounded a bit too possessive. Keeping. Did that sound any better? Maybe not, but even though she realised Fluffy was a free spirit who ought to be able to come and go as he pleased, she wanted him to go just a little less and stay with her just a little more… And when she said a little more, she meant always.

  The cashier rang the last item up in the till and handed it to Lara, who packed it into a bulging bag.

  ‘That’ll be forty-five pounds exactly.’

  Lara tried not to choke as she pulled out her payment card. She’d expected it to come to quite a lot of money but she hadn’t been prepared for that. Forty-five quid on cat food? Still, she supposed it would be worth it in the end.

  ‘Someone’s got a lucky cat…’

  Lara looked up to see the cashier at the neighbouring till talking to another customer. She was packing vast amounts of the exact same cat food that Lara was buying into a bag for him. Lara couldn’t see his face but…

  He turned round. He was tall, with a nice, athletic build, dark hair that was short and wavy, dark eyes. In a better mood, Lara might have considered him handsome.

  It couldn’t be? She’d only seen his profile in the dim light of a street lamp before but…

  The surprise on his face was almost as great as Lara’s.

  ‘That better not be for my cat!’ Lara said coldly, unable to help herself, despite the scene she knew she was causing. The cashier at her till looked at her in shock, and then looked at Theo in some confusion as she figured out who Lara was talking to.

  ‘Actually,’ Theo replied in an irritatingly level voice, as if to point out to Lar
a that she was the neurotic, unreasonable nutjob here, ‘it’s for my cat. Why on earth would I be buying food for your cat?’

  ‘I know what you’re doing,’ Lara said, putting her payment card away before grabbing her bag from the checkout and rushing over to him.

  The cashier at his till stared between them both, but he simply smiled at her and pressed his card against the reader to pay for his goods.

  ‘You’re trying to tempt him to stay with you,’ Lara insisted.

  ‘I don’t need to do that,’ Theo replied coolly, ‘as he’s my cat anyway.’

  ‘OK… I’ve been thinking about this… How long have you had him?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  ‘No, but seriously?’

  For a moment Lara thought he was going to turn and walk off. But then he replied. ‘About seven or eight months. I don’t see that it matters.’

  ‘Well, I got him twelve months ago. So that makes him mine – see?’

  ‘It makes him whoever’s he wants to be. Have you ever considered that he might not have liked living with you and that’s why he started coming into my house? To be honest, I can’t say I blame him – I wouldn’t want to live with you either.’

  ‘He does like living with me!’ Lara squeaked indignantly. ‘He loves my house!’

  ‘Clearly – that’s why he just wandered into mine and made himself at home. I didn’t exactly have to kidnap him, you know – he’s free to come and go as he pleases, but he always comes back to me. So what does that tell you?’

  ‘Then why the posh food?’ Lara hurried after him as he took his bag and began to make for the exit. Both cashiers stared after the pair now. ‘If he loves coming to your house so much, why do you need to make such an effort to tempt him back?’

  Theo stopped and looked at the bag Lara was cradling in her arms. ‘I could ask you the same thing.’

  ‘And another thing!’ Lara said, ignoring the fact that she’d been caught bang to rights. ‘Where are my collars?’

  ‘What collars?’ he asked, walking again.