The Expat Diaries: Misfortune Cookie (Single in the City Book 2)

by Michele Gorman

  I jump up, snatching the tray against their gentle objections. Winnie meets me in the kitchen. ‘How’s it going?’ she asks, flipping on the kettle as I dig around for fresh teabags.

  ‘Ugh, I can’t tell. I’m not letting them get a word in but I don’t know, Winnie, it feels like a lost cause. I mean, I do work here. No matter how long I talk they’re not going to forget why they’ve come.’

  ‘No, no, no, Hannah, you must stay positive. Josh will be here soon and he says to just keep talking. He says he knows you can do that. And then he laughed… Hannah, you know who’s behind this, don’t you?’

  ‘I have no doubt whatsoever,’ I say grimly.

  The Immigration officers look more determined when I return nearly a quarter of an hour later with fresh tea. That’s not good. They must know that I’m stalling. ‘By the way,’ I tell them conversationally as I pour. ‘Josh, Mr. Bolton, will be here soon. In fact, perhaps I should just get an extra cup in case–’

  ‘Ms. Cumming, please. Will you please answer our question? Are you employed by Mr. Bolton?’

  ‘Oh, of course. I mean, of course I’ll answer your question. I was answering it, actually, before you interrupted just now. As I was saying, I emailed several companies and only Josh got back to me. He was very sweet right from the start. We had a chat on the phone first and he completely understood my conundrum. Chicken-and-egg, you know… can’t get work without experience, can’t get experience without working. He suggested I might like to come to the office to see how they operate and ask any questions I might have. So I did. It was fascinating. I mean, here I was, inside a fashion company! Josh answered all my questions and we talked about the market, you know, how the problems in Europe are affecting his business. Is the recession affecting your business? No, I suppose it wouldn’t. It’s not too bad here either, because we– Josh has such good relationships with his clients. Then he… he invited me back… and here I am. Time has just flown, it’s–’

  There’s a commotion in the foyer and my heart leaps as I see Josh striding past Mrs. Reese towards the office. ‘Hello, I’m Josh Bolton.’ He smiles, extending his hand as if visits from Immigration are an everyday occurrence. ‘Hi Hannah, everything okay while I was out?’ Solemnly he takes the men’s business cards, examining each one, before extending his own. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were coming or I’d have cut my meeting short.’ He’s opening and shutting drawers, stuffing papers from his briefcase into them. ‘Now, how may I help you gentlemen?’

  Man One clears his throat. ‘We’re here about Ms. Cumming’s work status. We understand that she is in your employ, but we don’t seem to have any record of a valid work permit. I’m sure you can clear up the confusion.’

  ‘Oh. Oh, of course. Really? No record? Are you sure?’

  ‘Quite sure, sir. So if you could confirm Ms. Cumming’s employment status…’

  ‘Well certainly, but I’ll need to check our records, for accuracy you understand. It may take a few minutes. If you’d rather, I’m happy to fax–’

  ‘Yes, sir. We’ll wait.’

  ‘All right. Just a moment, please. I’ll ask our accountant.’

  ‘So Ms. Cumming is being paid by you?’

  ‘Of course she is. Why else would she be here?’

  Man Two shoots me a look.

  Josh punches his speed dial, spinning his chair away from us and speaking in a low voice. ‘Thank you,’ he says as he hangs up. ‘The twenty-first of June this year. That’s when Hannah started. She may be a recent hire but already she’s proving her mettle.’

  No, no, no, I want to scream, I don’t want him to lie. I’ve been here since February. He’s in enough trouble for letting me work without a visa. He shouldn’t compound it by lying. They might put him in jail. He could lose his company! We need to come clean and take our chances that it won’t be too bad. ‘Josh,’ I say quietly. ‘I think–’

  Man One interrupts, possibly not realizing that I’ve spoken. ‘Do you have your records, sir, showing Ms. Cumming’s visa?’

  The moment of truth. Josh might be an amazing boss but even he can’t conjure a visa out of thin air. As my mother would say, the jig is up. Oh God, my mother. First Sam, now this. It’s won’t be easy to dispute her claim to righteousness now.

  ‘Of course, it’s right here.’ Josh reaches into his drawer and withdraws a stapled pack of papers. Abracadabra. ‘I’m happy to make copies for you, if you’d like.’ They nod, scrutinizing the papers.

  ‘Fine. Mrs. Reese?’ he calls. ‘Mrs. Reese?’

  She appears in the doorway. ‘Yes, Josh?’

  ‘Will you please make two copies of these papers for me? Thank you.’

  I watch her carefully as she takes the papers. Her expression doesn’t change, but the stillness in her face tells me her thoughts. ‘Now,’ he says. ‘If there’s nothing else I can help you with…’

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Bolton. We’ll just need to see Ms. Cumming’s passport.’

  He looks at me. ‘I’m sure Hannah doesn’t have her passport with her. Can we fax a copy to you tomorrow? Or come over with it?’

  The officials agree that we should go to their offices, and stand to leave. ‘Thank you, Ms. Cumming,’ says Man One as we shake hands at the stairwell, as if this was all just a silly old misunderstanding. ‘That was a very interesting story.’

  As soon as they’re safely down the stairs Josh motions me to his office. He closes the door.

  ‘Josh, I’m so sorr–’

  ‘Hannah, I don’t know what to say except sorr–’

  We stare at each other. ‘Why are you apologizing?’ I ask him.

  ‘I should have sorted your visa months ago. I kept meaning to but then with one thing or another, I put it off. It was stupid. You could have been in serious trouble.’

  ‘I thought I was dead! But Josh, how did I have a visa?’

  ‘You didn’t,’ he says simply. ‘At least, you didn’t until about an hour ago. When Winnie called I knew I had to sort something quickly. I called in a lot of favors, friends of friends and so on, and got the papers done up. Luckily I was near Wan Chai to pick them up or you’d have had to talk for a lot longer! They’re not quite legitimate but only insofar as the Immigration men were right. They’re the real thing. A real visa, I mean. They just weren’t in the records. Well, they will be now, filed away as if they’ve been there all along. We need to get your visa stamp first thing tomorrow. Don’t ask. You’re legal now, that’s all that matters.’ He grins.

  ‘Josh, you’re amazing. Okay, I don’t need to know the details. In fact, it’s better if I don’t, in case I ever have to testify against you,’ I say, beaming. ‘But I do need to talk to you about something. Do you know who called Immigration on me?’

  He nods, and sighs. ‘Yes, it occurred to me as I was running around.’

  ‘There’s more.’ I tell him everything, watching his expression get sadder and sadder. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say when I’m done. ‘I know she’s a long-time family friend.’

  ‘A real friend wouldn’t do those things. Nor would she jeopardize this company. Leave it with me, okay?’

  As I leave to tell Winnie all that’s happened, I hear him call for Mrs. Reese. He called her Camilla.

  ‘A toast,’ says Josh, raising his glass beneath the fairy-lit mango trees. Red lanterns glow overhead, making it easy to forget that our sofa under the stars (well, under the light pollution) is nestling between Mong Kok’s skyscrapers. The Backyard just might be my favorite Hong Kong bar, I think as I raise the last of my grapefruitini. ‘To work permits!’ Stacy grins at him, lightly stroking his hand. ‘I was afraid we’d lost you today, Hannah. I’m very glad we didn’t.’ Everyone clinks glasses.

  ‘And to Hannah’s promotion! Congratulations, sweetie!’ Stacy adds. ‘It is a promotion, right Josh?’

  ‘Absolutely. It’s a promotion.’

  ‘To Hannah’s promotion!’ Winnie grins. ‘And to second chances. I didn’t think you were going to g
et a break there, Han. I should have known Josh would figure something out. Here’s to second chances. I’m so glad you got one!’

  Me too. This day couldn’t have worked out better. For me, at least. Despite everything Mrs. Reese has put me through I still felt a little sick thinking about what Josh must have said to her.

  They were in his office for a long time, and when she emerged she went straight to her desk, got her handbag and left. Josh appeared in the doorway, ran his hand through his mad hair, and called me in. ‘Mrs. Reese is taking a few weeks off, before deciding what she’d like to do. Hannah, why didn’t you say anything earlier? I feel like a fool, that I didn’t see what she was doing before this. Not just with you, I mean. When I think of your predecessors… I feel like a fool.’ He held up his hand to my protest. ‘It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. The important thing is that we go forward, and that I’ve got a team I can trust, and rely on. You’ve done a very good job for me, and I expect that’ll continue long into the future. I hope this whole business hasn’t put you off of us.’ I shook my head. ‘Good. Then I’d like to discuss your future…’

  So here I am, gainfully employed in a job I love, with a boss who, for the first time in my life, believes in me as much as I believe in myself. This feels good. It feels really good. I may not know exactly where I’m going, or what the future holds for me, but I know I’ll make the most of it. I’ve proven that to myself. ‘I’ll get the next round,’ I say, grabbing my bag, which bdlllings in response. My heart skips as I dig out my phone.

  Just got your emaik honey, Dad and I are so proud of you. Congratultions. We lovyou. xx Mom

  Now will you come home for Christmas?

  Yes, Mom, I’ll go home for Christmas. I know my own mind now, and I’m strong enough to withstand any convincing she might wish to do. After these past few months, I’m strong enough to withstand anything. Opening my wallet to check for cash, the tattered fortune catches my eye. Following your heart will pay off in the near future. Maybe it will after all, I think as I pay for our drinks… ‘I’ll grab them in a sec,’ I tell the bartender. ‘I’ve just got a couple of texts to send first.’ I take out my phone, thinking about second chances, and text Sam.

  I’ll make no promises. I know what I want, and more importantly, I know what I deserve. It’s what my heart, and my head, demands.

  The End

  Every time you write a review, an author gets a cupcake, so if you enjoyed The Expat Diaries: Misfortune Cookie, please take a minute to share your thoughts on your favorite eBook website

  Did they? Didn’t they? If you want to know what happens next with Hannah and Sam, read on for the first two chapters of the final book, The Expat Diaries: Twelve Days to Christmas.

  About the Author

  Michele Gorman is the Sunday Times and USA Today bestselling author of eight romantic comedies. Born and raised in the US, Michele has lived in London for 16 years. She is very fond of naps, ice cream and Richard Curtis films but objects to spiders and the word “portion”.

  You can find out more about Michele by following her on twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, Goodreads, or by reading her blog or website. Do chat with her on twitter or facebook – she’s always looking for an excuse to procrastinate!

  @MicheleGormanUK

  MicheleGormanBooks

  Michele’s newest book, The Curvy Girls Club, is available globally in paperback and all eBook formats.

  Fed up with always struggling to lose weight, best friends Katie, Ellie, Pixie and Jane start a social club where size doesn't matter. It soon grows into London's most popular club - a place to have fun instead of counting carbs - and the women find their lives changing in ways they never imagined.

  Outside the club, life isn't as rosy but the curvy girls soon realize that no matter what life throws at them, together, anything is possible . . .

  "This is a delightful book of friendship, acceptance, and belonging for anyone who has ever wondered: "What if?"" Publishers Weekly

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  Read on for an excerpt from The Expat Diaries: Twelve Days to Christmas copyright © 2013 Michele Gorman

  What if his proposal had an expiration date?

  The Expat Diaries:

  Twelve Days to Christmas

  ♫ On the First day of Christmas my fortune gave to me…

  a ticket home to see my family ♪

  This wasn’t your normal proposal.

  ‘He’s going to ask me to marry him,’ I said, shakily tucking my mobile back into the beach bag. I felt sick. Giddiness? Nausea? Too much sun? Whatever the cause, I needed to sit down. ‘Ohmygod, he’s going to ask me to marry him!’

  ‘How do you know?’ Stacy asked, scooting closer to my beach towel and covering me with sand in the process. Tiny pieces of white shell stuck to my obsessively sun-creamed legs. ‘He just told you that? Now? On the phone?’

  We had the beach nearly to ourselves, even though the unusually warm December weekend made it hot enough to fry pancakes on the pavement. Warm winter days were just one more perk of living in Hong Kong. Not that the locals would dare venture out in less than a winter coat at that time of year. Their wonky internal thermostats convinced them that temperatures below 85°F caused vital organs to freeze.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Brent asked from his towel, millimeters from mine despite the unoccupied expanse of sand on either side of us. He liked to be close, like a puppy, always underfoot.

  ‘Well, I’m not a hundred per cent sure, and he didn’t call to tell me that. He just wanted to say hello because he missed me.’ I smiled at that. We’d only seen each other last night. It was such a romantic night. Just thinking about him made me giddy. My grin widened. Stacy made a vomit face. ‘We were talking about Christmas,’ I continued. ‘And he said he has something important to talk to my parents about when we go home. He hasn’t even met them yet. What else could it be? Deductive reasoning, right?’

  Stacy nodded.

  ‘How do you feel?’ Brent searched my face.

  ‘I can’t believe it, it’s amazing! I mean, it seems quick, I know… but it’s not, really. We’ve been together over a year. All right,’ I said, noting Stacy’s expression. ‘Except for those few months.’ What an annoying stickler for detail she could be. ‘I can’t believe it. He’s going to propose. Wow.’

  ‘Yeah, wow,’ said Brent and Stacy together.

  The prospect of taking Sam home to meet my family seemed way less serious back in November when we booked the flights. Granted, involving airports when introducing a boyfriend to your family will inject an air of significance to the event. There’s no way around that. We couldn’t exactly pop by for a casual inspection over Mom’s pot roast from six thousand miles away.

  I was excited about Christmas even before I knew Sam was coming with me. It had been nearly two years since I’d been home. I couldn’t wait: seeing snow, and caroling in the neighborhood where I grew up, waking on Christmas morning to the smell of Mom’s pancakes, arguing with my sister about which cheesy DVD to watch first, being chastised by Dad for eating all the dark chocolates from the giant Russell Stover box his students give him every year. Ah, family. I figured Sam was looking forward to his own arguments back home in Wyoming, where they’d do Wyomingesque things like rustle cattle or chop down trees in the snow. But no, he had more than rodeos on his mind for the holidays. ‘I’d like to come home with you, and meet your parents,’ he’d said as we snuggled on the outdoor sofa of my favorite rooftop bar. ‘Next year maybe we can visit my family together.’

  My belly had flipped at the implication. Next year. Talk about a
statement of intent. Ever since I first fell in love with him, I’d wanted to hear words like that. Of course he was welcome to come home with me. Aside from the chance to spend nearly two weeks together, day and night, and show him off to my family, there was the small matter of getting there without the need for tranquilizers. I wasn’t known for my composure at thirty thousand feet. As my best friend and fellow Connecticuter, Stacy was contractually obliged to join me in fright, er, flight. But she was exercising an exemption clause to stay with my boss instead (in a non-professional capacity; he was also her boyfriend). That meant an empty seat beside me, ideally to be filled by someone who wouldn’t make the flight attendant change his seat just because I’d crawled into his lap and begged him to hold me.

  ‘Hannah?’ Brent caught my attention. ‘What do you want to do?’

  I searched his face for hurt. I didn’t want to upset him but I had to be honest. ‘Well… I love Sam. Sure, we’ve had our problems, but that’s behind us now. These past months have been wonderful, incredible. Like they were before, when we were in London. Of course I’d want to marry him.’

  ‘… I meant do you want to swim or lie here a bit longer?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, flushing with embarrassment. ‘Yes, let’s snorkel. Yes, okay, good idea.’

  ‘Oh my God, it’s freezing!’ Stacy shouted, laughing as she ran headlong into the water, setting off for mainland China in a front crawl and leaving Brent and me in the shallows to torture ourselves one shivery inch at a time. When we got to the sensitive bits, we stopped.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ He asked.