Skye and the City (A Romantic Comedy)

Chapter 5

"Here, have this for the shock!"

A half-dressed Elsa from Frozen greets me at the door, shoving a can of ready mixed cocktail into my hand. "A live sex show," Orlagh tuts, shaking her head as she leads me into the kitchen, her ice-blonde wig barely moving. "That's just wrong."

"I think I was most traumatised by the sight of Samuel's bare bum," I groan after taking a fortifying sip of Pina Colada. As soon as I recovered from the mortification of interrupting Laura's sofa sex session, I called Orlagh, and she told me to pack immediately and move in early.

"Was it that bad?" Orlagh asks curiously. "His arse, I mean?"

"It was just kind of . . . Somehow flat and saggy all at once," I sigh. "I've never really been an arse kind of girl, though."

"Agreed, I'm more about what they're packing around the front." Orlagh nods. She squints at me. "Do you have a cut on your cheek?"

I nod, rubbing absent-mindedly at it. "Yeah. I accidentally hit myself in the face with the umbrella I was using as a weapon."

Orlagh howls in laughter. "Holy crap, you really are a disaster zone, aren't you?" She opens the fridge and pulls out her own cocktail can.

"Aren't you freezing?" I ask pointedly, nodding towards her unusual get-up. She'd said she had a children's party earlier and she must have been de-Elsa-fying when I turned up as she's still wearing the shoes and wig and a full-face of make-up, but only a little white slip dress apart from that. And the slip is uncomfortably see-through.

She shrugs. "The cold never bothered me anyway."

"Very good." I roll my eyes. "I feel like you were just waiting for a window to say that."

"Ah, I have to put my encyclopaedic Frozen knowledge to good use somehow! I take your point, though," she concurs. "Be  back in a minute; I'm just going to stick my PJs on."

I settle myself down at the kitchen table, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I can see a semi-apologetic text message from my cousin, but I decide to ignore that for now - it's going to take me a while to get over what I witnessed. I know I was a guest in her flat, and she's entitled to do whatever and whoever she wants in her own space . . . But couldn't she have stuck to shagging in the bedroom until I'd moved out? Was that not exciting enough for her? Was she - urgh - getting off on the idea that I might walk in and catch them? Wait, I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that question!

My former boss has also messaged me. That's a far more welcome text . . .

My phone has been blowing up all afternoon with reference requests from recruitment agencies; hope you get something sorted soon!x

I smile to myself; Iona Thorne is the sweetest. She's probably the part of my old job I miss the most. Even if she does have the perfect man and life, and I feel like no romance I ever have could possibly live up to the utterly adorable romantic backstory she has with her gorgeous husband Ryan. She was always so supportive and patient with me though, even when I made a lot of typical "Skye" mistakes when I first started in the role. If anyone else had been my boss, I'd probably have thrown in the towel within a week or two, but it was mainly thanks to her that I actually became good at my job.

Fingers crossed! I hope you were nice about me. 😊 xx

Her response is almost instant.

How could I be anything BUT nice about you??? ❤️ x

Why can't all bosses be this lovely? I think back to George, the restaurant owner with a frown. And a cringe. It'll definitely be years before that embarrassment fully fades. And, once again, I find myself hoping that Mr Cab Sav is okay. He's kind of intrinsically linked to the mortification of those few disastrous moments, so he's frequently been appearing in my recent thoughts.

Orlagh reappears in the kitchen, sans wig and make-up, and dressed in fluffy pyjamas. "Will we order some food in?" She asks, curling her legs under her on a chair and sipping delicately at her cocktail. "What kind of takeaways are your favourite?"

"Probably Italian - you can't go wrong with pizza or pasta, right? And copious amounts of cheese, of course!"

"I'm so glad I befriended you," she grins. "Lissa - the girl who's moving out - only ever wants to get sushi as a takeaway. I mean, come on! There's no cheese in that." She frowns. "Also, I just hate sushi."

I laugh. "Me too."

A strange piece of classical music suddenly blasts out from my phone, and I stare at it, puzzled, for a moment.

"I think someone's calling you," Orlagh points out helpfully.

"Yeah, I realise that," I nod, rolling my eyes in her direction. "It's just that I turned the volume up on my ringer for the first time today and I had absolutely no idea that this was my ringtone!" I accept the call. "Hello?"

"Skye? It's Stacy here. From Harris Recruitment?"

"Oh, hi!" My voice comes out high-pitched and squeaky, and Orlagh smothers a giggle, before wisely leaving the room to give me space. "Can I help you with something?"

Why did I say that? She's the one meant to be helping me! My face is burning and I'm so relieved that this isn't a video call.

She ignores my moronic statement thankfully. She tells me she's found a job opening that she thinks I'll be perfect for: an admin position in a local college. It sounds like it has the potential to be a bit dull, but beggars can't be choosers, and I'm told it will last for at least two months . . . Well, as long as Tornado Skye doesn't report for duty!

"And maybe there will be some hot mature students," Orlagh points out, when I tell her I've accepted the assignment and will be starting on Monday.

"You have a one-track mind," I tut, shaking my head at her.

"Hey, I know your heart is set on your mystery man, but you may as well have some fun while you try to find him."

I really wish I hadn't told Orlagh about him; that was meant to be my own little secret and mission. But five or six different varieties of White Ukranian cocktails had worn me down and loosened my lips the other night. And now she's determined to help me locate him. I really wasn't looking for it to turn into a group project - no matter how many times I lie on my CV about being a team player, I really do prefer to work on my own!

Right now though, what I need to focus on is my new job. Searching for the man who made me move here can wait a little while longer . . .

Kudos to anyone who has clocked the sly little references back to one of my previous books by the way!  😉