She studies me for a few seconds before she takes me by the elbow and walks me away from Chris. “My dear, I don’t know why he told you that his great aunt is dead. She is, but that’s beside the point.”
“Right,” I say in the same sympathetic tone, not following in the slightest.
She lowers her voice and says, “It’s his girlfriend.”
My disappointment stings. I knew Chris being single was too good to be true! “He has girlfriend?”
She presses her thin lips together and shakes her head. “Had. He had a girlfriend. She died.”
I place my hand over my chest. “Oh, but that’s awful!”
“Yes, yes, it is.”
I glance at Chris. He’s got his head bowed now, looking thoroughly dejected. “When did she, you know, pass?”
“Last week.”
“Oh, no. Poor Chris! No wonder he drank his body weight in scotch.”
She purses her lips. “Indeed. And bringing you here to his girlfriend’s wake is in very poor taste, don’t you think?”
Wait, what?!
I blink at her creased, tight face. “This is his girlfriend’s wake?”
“Does your IQ match your EQ?”
My jaw dropping to the floor, I turn to look at Chris. He’s now rummaging around in his pocket for something, completely oblivious to my discovery. In shock, my eyes glide past him and land on a poster-sized picture of a young woman on a beach, smiling at the camera, the wind in her hair. The name “Caitlin Forrester” and the dates she lived tell me all I need to know.
Oh, God.
“I’m so, so sorry, Mrs.—” I still have no memory of Chris’s last name, but I know I need to press on to make this right. Or as right as I can when I’ve met a guy, had a drink with him, and he’s invited me to his dead girlfriend’s wake. That old chestnut. “—I’m so sorry, Mrs. Chris’s Mom. I had no idea. Really, I didn’t.”
She shoots me a puzzled look. “Christopher has had a very hard time of it lately,” she explains and I nod along. “I’m sure you’ll understand that I really do need you to leave.”
“Leave. Yes. Of course. That’s what I’ll do.” I begin to back away. “Right now, in fact.” I glance quickly at Chris, but he’s so preoccupied with trying to appear normal, he seems completely oblivious to my presence.
I back right away until I bump up against something. I turn to see a large arrangement of flowers, and manage to catch it before it topples over. Phew! That was close.
As I check that the flowers are stable, I hear the familiar tones of an Adele song coming from somewhere nearby. She sings out the title of the track, saying hello to someone who’s on the other side. And then it repeats, the same words again. And again.
Chris and his mom and a bunch of people nearby turn and gawp at me.
For a moment, I’m confused. Why are they all looking at me? I know I’m not meant to be here, but I’m not singing the wildly inappropriate song.
And then, with a sickening realization, I work out where the sound is coming from. My purse. My phone is ringing in my purse. I’m the one with the song saying hello from the other side to a bunch of people at a wake.
In a flood of mortification, I remember Darcy and I had been messing around with the ringtones on our phones last night, and she’d changed mine to this song. She laughed when she said she was calling me from the other side of the room to go get her another soda.
Now, standing at a wake, the words take on a whole new meaning.
“Erin?” Chris says, his face aghast. He looks like he’s seen a ghost—or at least heard one.
I put my hands up in the air. “Oh, no. No, I don’t mean Caitlin. She’s not calling from the other side, or from anywhere, because, you know—” What am I going to say, because she’s dead? No, I can’t! That would be horrible, just like this date. Horrible, horrible, horrible! I swallow, and try again. “It’s just my ring tone. That’s all it is. My roommate and I changed it last night,” I explain in a rush. “It’s quite funny, really, when you think about it. Don’t you . . . think . . . ?” I trail off, as people continue to gawp at me and my internal voice yells, Stop, Erin. Just Stop!
I have so got to get out of here.
As if I need a final straw—because I’ve got to tell you, right now my straw stack has reached the freaking ceiling—I back away from the crowd right into that darn flower arrangement again, the one I’d only just managed to save from toppling over. This time, there’s no saving it, and it goes crashing to the floor to a collective gasp from the people watching. Which, by now, is pretty much everyone in the room.
“Sorry, sorry,” I mutter. I catch the look of utter bewilderment on Chris’s Mom’s face as I turn and run, letting the heavy door bang against the wall in my haste to get out of there.
As I make it out onto the street, I run from the mortification, I run from the sadness in the room, and I run from the world’s most inappropriate funeral song. But most of all, I run from the chance of something new with someone I thought was a normal, straightforward guy. The horrible date from hell.
——
You can pre-order your copy of No More Horrible Dates, Book 3 in the High Tea series here.
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Acknowledgements
I’ve got a few people to thank help bring this book to life. Thanks go to my critique partner, Jackie Rutherford, who tirelessly supports my writing and offers me great feedback to make my books the best they can be. You’re a total rock star, Jackie!
Thank you to Sue Traynor for creating yet another gorgeous cover for me. I love it. Thanks to my editor, Karan Eleni of the Letterers Collective, for her work in getting this book ready for the big, wide world to see, and to my proof reader, Diane Michaels, whose attention to detail is second to none.
To my family, thank you for being awesome ad supporting me through another book.
And finally, thank you to all my readers. Without you, I couldn’t do this. Keep on reading, and I will keep on writing.
About the Author
I am a bestselling author of fun, feel-good romantic comedies and chick lit. I live and love in beautiful New Zealand with my family, two scruffy dogs, and a cat who thinks he's a scruffy dog, too. He's not: he's a cat.
When I’m not penning my latest story, I can be found hiking up hills (slowly), traveling to different countries around the globe, and eating chocolate. A lot of it.
My titles:
High Tea Series (Cozy Cottage Café Series spin-off):
No More Bad Dates
No More Terrible Dates
No More Horrible Dates
Cozy Cottage Café Series:
One Last First Date
Two Last First Dates
Three Last First Dates
Four Last First Dates
Wellywood Romantic Comedy Series:
Wedding Bubbles
Styling Wellywood
Miss Perfect Meets Her Match
Falling for Grace
Standalone titles
Manhattan Cinderella
The Right Guy
One Way Ticket
I'm Scheming of a White Christmas.
All my books are available from Amazon to buy or to read for free on Kindle Unlimited.
I would love it if you would sign up to my newsletter! I only send emails when I’ve got news (approximately once a month), so you won’t be bombarded with communications by me, I promise!
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