The Desperate Bride’s Diet Club by Alison Sherlock Read Free Book Online

she didn’t breathe too deeply it should stay put. She regretted not getting a bigger size of the magic knickers but even they were a size twenty. Her stomach bulged through the trouser material. She would havecovered up the rolls of fat by doing up the matching jacket but the buttons wouldn’t meet in the middle so she gave up.
    Heading downstairs, she glanced in the hall mirror and sighed with self-pity. (It was only a small one. She had no need for full-length mirrors.) Her long, black hair had gone impossibly fluffy from a quick wash and blast with the hairdryer. As normal, she’d only bothered witha sweep of mascara. Her cheeks were rosy from the heat and Violet could feel the beginning of sweat patches appearing under the jacket.
    So she had the window down in the car on the way into town to cool down, even though it was only the beginning of May and the temperature wasn’t that high yet.
    She hovered outside the office, trying to pluck up the courage to go in. In the end, apathy won overher desire to run away. What was the point in fretting? She wasn’t going to get the job. So she went inside, not caring either way.
    Mason & Mason was a large company, which appeared to be doing rather well, if the office decor was anything to go by. It was all glass and mirrors. Violet had to keep averting her eyes to avoid seeing her own reflection.
    She was given a visitor’s pass by the receptionistand told to wait. The interview was with Mark Harris and someone would come down to collect her.
    A fierce-looking blond woman appeared. ‘You here for the interview?’ she barked.
    Violet nodded, a bit scared.
    ‘You’d better come with me.’
    They both stepped into the lift.
    ‘You’re the fifth one he’s seen today,’ the woman snapped.
    ‘Sorry,’ muttered Violet.
    ‘Not your fault,’ she said. ‘But I’vegot better things to do than show people in and out of the building all morning.’
    On the third floor, the doors opened and they went through the office. It was bright and modern, full of smoked-glass panels, streamlined beech desks and brightly coloured chairs, all fighting for space amongst the exotic plants. The walls were adorned by fake Monet prints and motivational photographs of a man runningup a steep mountain towards his goal and a possible heart attack.
    They entered a messy department, which seemed at total odds with the rest of the building. The desks were strewn with paper; computer magazines were piled high on top of filing cabinets; and boxes filled with the insides of various computers were littered all over the floor.
    Amongst the debris were the staff, all with their headsdown and looking very busy. The woman showed Violet into an office.
    ‘He’ll be here in a minute,’ she informed her and then left.
    Violet stood inside Mark Harris’s office, trying to compose some witty answers to the normal interview questions. Where did she herself in five years’ time? What assets could she bring to this secretarial role? But her mind drew a blank.
    ‘Right,’ came a male voicefrom the doorway. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
    Violet spun round and stared. It took her a moment before she realised where she had seen him before. She couldn’t believe it. It was the handsome man from Marks & Spencer. The man whose cake she had snatched.
    Mark Harris’s eyes had widened as well. ‘It’s you!’ he said, pointing. ‘The phantom cake thief!’
    Violet gulped, the tears filling her eyes.She was so embarrassed. Of all the dumb luck, this was the worst. She waited for him to start shouting at her to get out. But he didn’t. He stared at her for a beat and then handed over a plastic cup.
    ‘I took a guess at white coffee. Hope that’s OK.’
    She watched him walk around to the other side of the desk and sit down. Normally good-looking people flustered her. And Mark Harris was definitelya man to fluster women.
    She wasn’t sure what made him so attractive. His black hair was too wavy, and