Busy Woman Seeks Wife by Annie Sanders Read Free Book Online

noticed
     the message light blinking on the phone. She balanced the cake carefully on the arm of the sofa, brushed at the crumbs she’d
     managed to sprinkle over the seat and stabbed at the play button. Just one message for Frankie. Ella listened carefully to
     the husky, well-modulated voice and the rather curt, detached message. She pressed the button and listened again. And again.
    A smile began to form on her pale little face, and she paced around the room, thinking fast. She stopped to scribble a few
     notes to herself, then licked her lips, picked up the phone, and dialed 1471 to find out the caller’s number.

Chapter 6

    Y uck, yuck, yuck. Alex dodged another puddle and wiped the rain from her eyes. She’d already missed her run yesterday and she
     wasn’t going to miss today’s. The noise of the rain splattering on her window when she woke up had almost driven her back
     under the duvet, but even the prospect of getting soaked was preferable to the appalling discomfort of the single bed. As
     she ran, she could still feel the twinges in her back from the few nights she’d spent in it, but if the delivery people meant
     what they had promised, she’d have a brand-new mattress delivered tomorrow. She’d bolted out at lunchtime yesterday and, like
     a demented child, had bounced on several in the bedding department of the nearest store before finally settling on a double
     for herself and a more comfortable single for her mother.
    As she rounded the corner of the road, her sneakers soaked and squelchy, she noted with relief that the builder’s Dumpster
     was still there. She’d have another mattress to add to it later. Meanwhile, she tried to avoid looking at her beloved old
     one, which, soaked and stained with rain now, peeped out from beneath even more plasterboard and empty bags of cement.
    Fresh from the shower, hair wild and beyond hope, she finished the orange juice in the fridge, then, wrinkling her nose at
     the sour taste and not daring to look at the “best before” date, she picked up her laptop and bag and headed out the door.
     A bowl of cereal would have been nice but the cupboard was bare. Saff was right. A wife was the answer but there was no one
     faintly suitable from the batch that had answered the ad. The actor had been eye candy but was out of the question. She pushed
     buttons on her phone as she walked.
    Four hours later, Alex had the phone tucked under her chin as she mouthed to Camilla to please grab her a sandwich too while
     she was out getting her own lunch. “Yes, it’s Alex Hill again, about my mother. Yes, that’s it. How is she today?” Alex glanced
     at the spreadsheet on her laptop, trying to work out why her schedule didn’t add up, but listened more attentively as the
     nurse outlined her mother’s night.
    “She was certainly a bit more comfortable than when you came to visit but the thing is,” she went on, “we need the bed now
     so, subject to the consultant’s early afternoon rounds, you should be able to take her home, well, as soon as you like, really.”
    Alex nearly dropped the phone. “Oh gosh. Are you sure?” She scanned her brain and her desk frantically to see what she had
     lined up and what was movable.
    “Yes, dear. She’s been here for five days and her condition is improving. We shall certainly miss her. She’s kept us all entertained,
     but she’ll be better off in your care.”
    “Right. Are you sure she is fit to come out now?” Alex stalled. “I mean, wouldn’t another night or two be a good idea, just
     to be certain?” There was a disapproving silence at the end of the line. “No probs. I’ll be there as soon as I can then.”
     She put down the phone. “Camilla, help!” Her assistant’s blonde little head popped up. “My mother has to be collected this
     afternoon, I’ve no beds, a diary full of stuff to do.” She riffled through some papers trying to find the notes she’d written
     for Toronto. “And basically, I’m