My Big Fat Christmas Wedding Read Online Free PDF Page B

kitchen and a minute later returned.
    ‘Thank you,’ chorused Mr and Mrs Dellis.
    Pandora came over and hugged me goodbye. ‘Tell us, dear Pippa – the most important thing: what other flavour scones will you bake for the fair?’
    ‘I’m thinking plain, with a generous dollop of glittery jam in the middle, in different colours, like Christmas baubles…lime green, blueberry purple and apricot orange…’
    ‘So preeetty they will look!’ Pandora buttoned up her coat. ‘I must work on some festive recipes too, to go alongside my traditional December sesame baklava and cinnamon cookies.’
    I smiled and glanced over her shoulder, as a draught swept into the restaurant. A group of young women near the front window giggled and fiddled with their hair. One quickly applied a slash of lipstick and then stared at the doorway. I shivered. Someone must have gone home and left the door open.
    But why were some of the girls staring at it, cheeks red, heads shyly cocked? My gaze switched to the front of the taverna. Ah. Now I understood why their hearts must have been beating like the hooves of reindeer pulling a sleigh.
    ‘Hey, Pips.’ Slate eyes crinkled as the song ‘Santa Baby’ played in the background. ‘Why the party?’
    There, looking as debonair as ever, holding a leather briefcase, stood Henrik.

Chapter Three
    ‘And that,’ said Henrik, ‘was how we undercut our competitor’s bid.’
    He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, having cleared a plate of Georgios’ delicious lamb stew. Henrik, Niko and I sat in a corner of the taverna, catching up on the last few months. Our table stood near a small Christmas tree that Sophia had already put up. The first in the village, according to several bemused locals who attended today’s meeting.
    ‘ThinkBig is going from strength to strength, then?’ I said.
    Henrik nodded. ‘The accountants have just been in and couldn’t speak highly enough of the company, once they’d been through our profit and loss report.’
    Boring you, are we? Sorry, but the mathematician in me was thrilled to be back on familiar ground. Henrik and I chatted a while longer about one of the government’s new fiscal policies.
    ‘I bumped into your friend Charlotte at a new bistro in Soho,’ said Henrik. ‘Seems like it was just as well you left your job at the bank.’
    ‘Do tell.’ I leant forward.
    Cue gasps from me as Henrik described accusations of insider trading and fraud. I pumped him for every detail as we then discussed the implication of the bank’s illegal activity for the whole of the City of London.
    Eventually Niko cleared his throat. ‘Um, ’scuse me, Henrik, Pippa – I help my parents tidy up. It’s been a long evening.’
    Heat flooded my cheeks and I put my hand on his arm. ‘Sorry, Niko – all this business talk must sound about as interesting as an empty fishing net. It’s just that it’s been so long since–’
    Niko’s mouth quirked up. ‘No problem. I understand.’
    ‘Apologies, mate. Very rude of us. So…how is the seafaring business going, now the colder weather is here?’ Henrik yawned. ‘Bet you get to put your feet up for a few weeks. Lucky chap.’
    Niko bit his lip as if suppressing an unsavoury reply and I glanced at Henrik. No. He wasn’t being sarcastic, I was sure of that. My eyes roved across his frame, taking in the sharply cut suit and those long, long legs. Then I gazed at Niko’s ruffled black curls and slightly creased white shirt, rolled up to his elbows. Feeling a tiny bit disloyal for a second, I wondered if Henrik would think I’d let myself go. My hair was no longer straightened. Make-up free, my face shouted freckles, those little ginger spots Niko was so fond of. I glanced down. Gone were the tailored trouser suits, replaced with jeans or comfy blouses and skirts.
    I twisted a strand of hair. Well, who cared what Henrik might think? Towards the end of our relationship, his pristine appearance had niggled anyway. I was happy.