More Than a Feeling

by Cate Woods

  Nevertheless, it is with a jitteriness in my chest and an uncomfortably dry mouth that I slide out from behind Fi’s desk – attempting to look as though I’ve been on the floor doing something very important – and head towards reception with Fi following on behind me.

  When he sees me, Sam gives a tentative smile, but his eyes are uncertain, as if he is worried how I’ll react. ‘Annie, hi.’

  ‘Hello,’ I say, with the sort of smile you might give an ex-boyfriend’s new partner. ‘I believe you wanted to speak to me?’

  ‘Yeah, well, I really just wanted to make sure you were okay. The last thing I heard was that you had a family emergency and then – nothing. I was worried. So I thought I’d come to your office to check.’

  ‘I don’t work here anymore,’ I say.

  ‘So I’ve just found out.’ Sam glances at his mate, whom I’ve barely even registered, then takes a hesitant step towards me. ‘Annie, can we, uh, talk somewhere? I won’t keep you long, I promise.’

  Before I can reply, however, I feel Fiona’s hand on my arm.

  ‘Sorry, gents, I just need to borrow Annie for one sec,’ she says, already dragging me away. Once we get out of earshot, she pulls me into a huddle.

  ‘Who is that you were talking to?’ she hisses.

  I blink at her. ‘Sam. Obviously.’

  ‘Then who,’ Fi goes on, ‘is that?’ And she points towards the bloke standing next to Sam. For the first time, I take a proper look at him: he’s tall and handsome, in a wholesome, Ralph Lauren advert type of way.

  ‘I’ve no idea.’

  ‘Because as far as I was concerned, yer man over there is Sam.’ Fi nods towards the newcomer. ‘He’s the fella I met at the penthouse, and it was his dick I nearly got an eyeful of when I caught him in bed.’

  Deep inside me, I feel a fluttering of hope. ‘So . . . you’ve never seen him before?’ I ask, pointing at my Sam.

  ‘Never – though I like the look of him.’ For a moment we just stare at each other, grins spreading over both our faces as the implications of all this settle in – and then Fi grabs me by the hand and leads us back towards the two Sams.

  ‘Right,’ she says, ‘let’s sort this feckin’ mess out once and for all . . .’

  She marches straight up to Sam’s mate and sticks out her hand.

  ‘Hello there, I’m Fiona Walsh, Curtis Kinderbey senior sales associate.’

  ‘Brad Michaelson,’ he replies.

  Fiona turns to me, the corners of her mouth twitching, and the fluttering in my stomach turns into full-blown butterflies as everything falls into perfect place.

  ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you properly, Mr Michaelson,’ Fi goes on, ‘and may I just say how sorry I am for barging in on you the other morning.’

  ‘Not at all,’ he says pleasantly. ‘My fiancée and I were extremely jet-lagged and we overslept. It’s me who should be apologising.’

  I glance at Sam: he’s watching all this with a what-the-fuck frown on his face.

  ‘Karl is on annual leave right now,’ Fiona explains, ‘but would you like me to give you feedback on the latest viewings? If you come through to the office, I’d be happy to walk you through everything. We have one couple who are particularly interested, we’re just waiting to hear back from them with an offer.’

  ‘That would be great, thank you.’ Brad gestures for her to lead the way, but as he passes me, he pauses. ‘Hey, I’m Brad,’ he says, flashing me an all-American smile.

  ‘Annie,’ I reply, nearly flinging my arms around him in giddy relief.

  Then he leans towards me, his voice conspiratorial. ‘I really hope you’re gonna put this poor guy out of his misery . . .’

  I glance at Sam, who’s introducing himself to Fi. After all my late-night agonising, I can’t quite believe what’s happening. I feel like dancing and screaming with happiness – although I should probably put the celebrations on hold for now. After all, it’s entirely possible that Sam might have changed his mind about me after I ghosted him for a month.

  When Fi and Brad disappear, Sam and I are left alone in reception; well, almost alone. Irene is still sitting at the front desk – although she has her head stuck in some paperwork and is doing her best to make herself invisible, bless her.

  Sam runs a hand through his hair, his eyebrows scrunched together. ‘So let me get this straight: your friend Fiona thought Brad was actually me?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘And she walked in on him in bed with his fiancée Serena, and, I presume, told you about it?’

  I nod.

  ‘Which means you thought that I . . . ? Ah, I see. So that’s why you didn’t return any of my calls.’ He puffs out his cheeks and slowly exhales, shaking his head. ‘Well, it’s a shame Fiona didn’t arrive at the penthouse a few minutes earlier that morning, because she’d have found me too – asleep on the sofa.’

  ‘I wouldn’t really have blamed you if you were seeing other people as well as me,’ I say quickly, concerned he might think I had overreacted. ‘It’s not like we were’ – I grope for the right word – ‘serious or anything.’

  He looks at me for a moment. ‘You may not have been serious, Annie, but I was. I still am.’ He drops his voice, conscious of Irene nearby. ‘I don’t kiss just anyone like that, you know.’

  ‘But I was serious too!’ I frantically grasp around for a way to prove just how serious. ‘In fact, I nearly had my pubes waxed into the shape of a Canadian maple leaf!’

  Sam’s eyes go wide, while there’s a stifled gasp from Irene’s direction. Oh God, why did I say that? What kind of nutter attempts to prove their sincerity with a novelty bush?

  ‘I didn’t actually go through with it,’ I stammer, ‘I mean, it was only going to be a bit of fun . . .’

  But even as I’m wildly back-pedalling, Sam’s face has lit up and now he starts to laugh, which sets me off too. As he reaches for me, wrapping his arms tightly around my waist and pulling me towards him, fireworks of happiness explode inside me.

  ‘So when can I see you again?’ Sam smiles, his face close to mine.

  ‘As soon as possible – we need to make up for lost time.’

  ‘What are you up to tonight?’

  I bite my lip. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to get a babysitter for Dot . . .’

  From somewhere nearby, I hear Irene virtually shout: ‘For Pete’s sake, Annie, I’ll bloody well babysit – just go!’

  Sam’s eyes widen, then we both start to laugh again. ‘I guess that’s a date then,’ I say, giving Irene a cheery thumbs up.

  ‘Just don’t run out on me again, Cinderella.’ Sam grins, entwining his fingers in mine.

  ‘Not a chance.’ And as we move towards each other for a kiss, I add under my breath: ‘And they both lived happily ever after, The End.’

  ‘Actually, Annie,’ murmurs Sam, his lips closing in on mine, ‘I reckon this could just be the beginning . . .’

  Acknowledgements

  I do hope you’ve enjoyed this book, as without you, dear reader, I wouldn’t have the joy and privilege of being able to call myself a writer. Out of all the millions of books out there, thank you so much for choosing to read mine.

  Thanks as ever to my amazing agent, Rowan, and to Eugenie and Liane for looking after me while Rowan was busy working on her own masterpiece.

  I feel extremely lucky to be published by the wonderful team at Quercus, with particular thanks to Emily Yau for her encouragement and wisdom.

  Thank you also to Kathryn Taussig, for taking a chance on me several times over.

  A huge thank you to the real-life Fiona, Claris, Tabitha, Tomo and my gorgeous goddaughter Dot, for allowing me to borrow their names.

  Writing this book coincided with losing my gorgeous mum to cancer, and without the support of certain people the story would still be half-finished and I’d be a blubbering wreck. Particular heartfelt thanks to Lisa Potts, Freya Williams, Carrie Lazarus and Sue Terrill for their love and support.


  And finally, grazie mille to my wingman Oliver: the top one percent of all husbands. The elite. The best of the best.

  Also By Cate Woods:

  Percy James has everything a girl could want:

  a comfy flat, a steady relationship and a

  truly lovely group of friends.

  Then she is approached by Eros Tech. Eros is ‘the

  future of love’ – an agency that brings together

  soulmates using phone data. Percy has been identified

  as a match for one of Eros’s super wealthy clients.

  The only problem is she already has a boyfriend . . .

  But what if this is *destiny*? Would you – could

  you – pass up a chance to meet your one true love?