Alice Brown's Lessons in the Curious Art of Dating Read Online Free PDF Page B

about these things.’
    Alice’s smile froze. The excitement drained down her body and collected in a lump in the pit of her stomach. It had been
her
match,
her
idea. She was the one who’d phoned them and arranged the dates – not Audrey!
    But Audrey was steamrollering on.
    ‘This is my twentieth Table For Two wedding, ladies. Hurry up with that champagne, Bianca! This is what you should have as your goal when you’re making matches. It’s not about finding partners. It’s about finding husbands and wives. Matchmaking a wedding is the crème de la crème. That’s what you should aim for: crème!’
    Alice numbly accepted a glass of cava. She felt sick. Audrey
knew
it had been her match.
    ‘Of course, girls, I really shouldn’t be surprised by these latest nuptials,’ Audrey continued immodestly. ‘After all, when I launched Table For Two, the first five matches I ever made
did
all make it up the aisle!’
    ‘And not a single one since,’ Hilary muttered darkly, loud enough for only Alice to hear. Alice smiled weakly in gratitude. At least Hilary wasn’t fooled by Audrey’s blatant credit-pinching. Besides, she and Hilary always shared a secret smirk whenever Audrey regaled them with this story – which was at least twice a week. It was the first thing visitors to the website were bombarded with, and it was emblazoned triumphantly across the front cover of the company brochure. The story of Audrey’s matching prowess had reached such flowery Table For Two legend that Audrey was bound to have it carved on her headstone.
    ‘To weddings!’ Hilary toasted loudly, her irony unnoticed by the majority of the room.
    ‘To my nose for a perfect match!’ trilled Audrey triumphantly. ‘It never lets me down!’
    Bianca and Cassandra cheered.
    Alice took a tiny sip of her drink. She knew the truth. And so did Jennifer and Jason.
    Everyone was too busy celebrating to hear the phone ring, its sound buried beneath their hysterical chatter. Alice picked it up.
    ‘Good morning, Table For Two,’ she said hollowly.
    ‘Is that Alice?’ a nervous voice asked.
    ‘Speaking.’
    ‘Thank God for that! It’s me; Kate, Kate Biggs . . . From last night . . . ?’
    ‘Oh, hi, Kate.’ Alice shrugged out of her coat and laid her wedding invitation aside. ‘How are you? What can I do for you?’
    ‘I’m going for it. I’d like to join up, please!’
    ‘That’s fantastic news!’ Alice said with as much encouragement as she could muster. ‘Well done! You won’t regret it, I promise.’
    Audrey could take all the credit, Alice thought to herself. She knew the truth. And this was what the job was all about – people like Kate Biggs, and their dreams. And Alice was going to do her very best to make those dreams come true. She twisted away from Audrey’s triumphant noises and concentrated on the phone call.



KATE

    Kate pushed through the office door, trained her eyes on the floor and concentrated on getting to her desk at racing-driver speed. She shoved her shopping under her desk and tried to look as if she’d been rooted to the same spot for a day and a half.
    She sneaked a look at her watch. Why did she feel so guilty whenever she took a lunch break? She’d only been gone for forty-five minutes: barely enough time for Julian, her boss, to have finished his starter at The Privet. Julian always took ridiculously long lunch breaks. And Kate was always working through hers. Not for the first time that day (or any day), Kate pondered the bitter irony of the fact that the more you got paid and the more senior you became, the fewer hours you bothered to work for your money.
    Normal working hours didn’t apply to either Kate or Julian, but in totally opposite ways. Kate was always the first to arrive at the office at 7.30 a.m., and was always the last to leave. But Julian had the working hours of a primary-school child. He’d be in by 9.00, and would spend the first half-hour perched on some unfortunate colleague’s