Love...Among The Stars: Book 4 in the Love...Series (Love Series) by Nick Spalding Read Free Book Online Page B

plan.'
    'Well, yes Jamie. Yes, I am. You're normally an idiot.'
    His face crumples. 'That's a bit harsh.'
    The look of wonder is replaced by ire. 'So is telling two Australian hippies that I can't have a proper shit in their house!' I still haven't quite let that one go.
    Jamie has the good grace to look sheepish. 'Ah. Good point.' He clears his throat. 'Shall we get going?'
    I take his hand. 'Yes, we shall. And thank you, sweetheart. I feel a bit better now.'
    The old Newman charm makes a triumphant return as Jamie smiles, kisses me gently on the cheek and says 'My pleasure, baby. Anything for you.'
    I've been married to this idiot for a long time now, and I still love the fact his kisses can make my heart flutter.
    Jamie leads me out into the corridor and through the large glass door, where we are greeted by a hundred happy looking individuals.
    At least I think they're happy. In the relative gloom I can't quite make out their facial expressions, but I'm going to be positive here and assume that they are pleased to see us.
    Cringingly, we then receive a short round of applause from everyone gathered. The enthusiasm of the clapping varies, according to how much money the individual is making from our book sales. I see our agent Craig smacking his hands together with great aplomb, while several others at the back of the crowd are showing far less vigour . I can only assume that they are the poor schmucks who actually have to do all the work around here, and would much rather be at home right now watching Netflix.
    Thankfully, this squirm inducing exercise is brought to a halt when we are approached by Craig, and Peter Hincham, the head of the company. Hincham is the kind of man who looks like he should be in a Hugh Grant comedy. Not one of the main cast you understand, he's a bit too non-descript for that. But there is no doubt in my mind that he'd provide a cracking cameo as the eccentric uncle, or the kindly antique store owner who tells the hero which direction the love of his life has just run off in.
    You probably don't need any more description of Peter Hincham than that, but just in case - he has wavy grey hair, is wearing a maroon waistcoat underneath his Hugo Boss suit, and his fingers are stained with forty years of heavy tobacco usage. You couldn't get a man more different from our towering agent Craig, who beams magnificently as he reaches us.
    'Glad you're here at last!' he booms, then contrives to look concerned. 'Hope you're not feeling too bad, Laura.'
    I affect a slightly pained squint. In for a penny, in for a pound, as they say. 'No, no. It's okay. I just can't stand in bright lights for too long.' I hold up a hand to the dim arc sodium strip lights above our head, shielding my eyes slightly. I'm going comprehensively overboard here, but what can I say? I'm getting a flair for melodrama in my old age.
    'Pleased to hear it!' Peter Hincham chimes in. 'We would have hated for you to miss the event Laura. You are, after all, the star of the show!'
    Flattery will probably get you somewhere Peter, but not quite as far as you'd like, I'm sure.
    It is at this moment that the most important person in the entire building approaches me... the guy with the plate of drinks. I swiftly grab a glass of white wine, and try my very best to hide myself completely behind it. Jamie blanches as soon as he sees the arranged alcoholic beverages. 'Have you got any orange juice?' he asks, and is delighted when a girl enters from stage left carrying a plate of softies.
    'All ready to do a little speech guys?' Peter asks.
    'Sorry, what?' I reply, nearly spitting out my wine.
    'A speech? I did ask Jamie if it was okay...' Peter replies, looking to my husband for affirmation.
    Jamie's lips purse, and all the good, hard work he accomplished with the photophobia has now flown merrily out the window, thanks to the fact that he has neglected to tell me that we have to stand in front of this lot and speak.
    'Jamie, should you have told me