Be My Baby

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#u968e9870-d043-540d-8870-3275ca8b34ae)

Well, Mollie thought as she desperately sipped her glass of Pinot Grigio, Ben was perfectly nice. But he was going to have to die.

This one was all Kit’s fault, suggesting a ‘friend’ from work. Ben was an accountant, he went to the gym every day at five a.m., he loved holidays in the south of France and would choose a good cheeseboard over a dessert, every time. Ben also chewed with his mouth open, and if she had to look at the half-masticated cow he’d been rolling around his trap whilst he’d been talking, for one moment more, Mollie thought she might vomit. Also, the man didn’t ask questions.

‘Well, I should probably get going, got a big morning tomorrow, you know,’ Mollie shrugged, signalling desperately to the waitress for the bill, and reaching for her purse.

‘Big morning?’ Ben smiled, ‘I thought you worked in the arts? Surely it’s all ten a.m. starts and parties?’Ah, so he did ask questions. Stupid questions.

‘Nope, I’ve started a company creating healthy, exciting food for kids. I’m being interviewed for a morning TV slot. Mollie Makes...’ Mollie shrugged awkwardly, ignoring the fact that, whilst that was true, that wasn’t happening tomorrow. Tomorrow morning she was taking her daughter to school. Not that he knew she had a daughter, because Ben didn’t ask questions.

‘Oh no, not more of all that “kids can eat quinoa” bollocks, is it?’ Ben laughed, slurping at his wine. The wine he’d spent ten minutes telling the waitress didn’t have a full enough body, and was incorrectly described on the menu. ‘I ate chicken nuggets and chips all the time as a kid. If those obese kiddies are fat, it’s because they’re lazy and need to get off their games consoles.’

Mollie widened her eyes, but said nothing, instead sending a look of relieved appreciation as the waitress delivered the bill. The girl caught her eye and quirked a lip, she must have seen a billion bad dates at this table. Mollie brandished her purse desperately, hoping the waitress wouldn’t leave.

‘Oh no, no, Molls, my women don’t pay,’ Ben shook his head, reaching for his wallet, ‘besides, I don’t suppose you’ve got a gold card, have you?’

‘No, I applied, but when they asked for my soul as collateral, I had to decline,’ Mollie smiled sweetly, and Ben looked at her in surprise.

‘Well look, Molls...’ he pulled out her chair as she stood, ‘let’s talk about where this is going, I’m an upfront guy, can’t afford to waste time, time is money you know. So, how many dates before I get the keys to the kingdom, so to speak?’ He raised his eyebrows in what he seemed to think was a playful manner and grinned, hands in his pockets as he shrugged.

Mollie pursed her lips as if she was thinking, ‘Ahh, I see, I mean, you’ve got out the gold card, so...’

‘Exactly! I knew you were the sort of woman who understood how the world works.’

She was that sort of woman, Mollie realised. She was a woman in her late twenties, who had successfully raised a child, who had started a business, left her crappy home town and created a brilliant life. And the only thing that was missing was someone to share it with.

But apparently, in the eleven years she had been raising a child, men had started to believe that swiping right was what their opposable thumbs were truly for. No more. If this was how the dating world worked, then the fairy tale was dead before it began. It was time to put away the politeness.

‘Right, well,’ Mollie pouted, twirling her blonde curls around her finger thoughtfully, ‘I’m afraid my vagina doesn’t come with a card chip-and-pin machine. Or contactless. But thanks though. Word of advice? Maybe try chewing with your mouth closed in future. Or just keep your mouth closed throughout the date, that would work too.’

Mollie threw her shoulders back as she walked off, and the waitress grinned at her, clapping her hands silently in applause. Well, for her first date in eleven years... that went as well as could be expected.

The girls were waiting at the studio when she got back, making use of their new ‘business purchase’ – a projector – watching The Breakfast Club against the wall, curled up on some massive cushions. They were going to start doing movie nights at the Ruby Rooms, as the evenings got darker. She was working on some posh popcorn recipes. Or she would be, when she had a moment to think beyond Mollie Makes, running the gallery, and being there for her daughter.

Evie paused, looking at her watch, frowning and looking back at Mollie. Chelsea was about to throw a handful of popcorn in her mouth, and stopped.

‘So?’ They both looked up, eyes wide and hopeful.

Mollie threw her bag on the table and pulled her heels off, collapsing into the oversized pillows next to them and reaching for the popcorn. ‘So, I’m going to murder Kit. How come he’s so lovely and he can be friends with a dickhead like that?’

Chelsea bit her lip, debating defending her fiancé’s choice in the set-up, ‘I mean, friend might be a bit strong... acquaintance, work colleague...’

‘One that he felt would be a good match for me?’ Mollie huffed, ‘Has he met me? I mean, does Kit actually like me, because that felt a lot like a punishment. Is he still annoyed about that time I shouted because he gave Esme that triple chocolate fudge cupcake before dinner?’

‘It was a sweet thought,’ Evie said fairly, handing over a bowl of Maltesers, ‘it can’t have been that bad.’

‘He asked me how many times he was going to have to pay for dinner before he got the, and I quote, “keys to the kingdom”.’

Evie raised her eyebrows and looked at Chelsea, ‘We’re going to have to talk to Kit. There was a level of trust involved here. He may need to be punished. Or he’s just not allowed to have opinions any more.’

Chelsea rolled her eyes, ‘It comes from a place of love. He just wants you to be happy.’

‘And he wants me to have a date for your wedding.’

‘Be flattered – Kit thinks you’re so wonderful he doesn’t want to deprive anyone of your company.’

Mollie wrinkled her nose, ‘Well that’s lovely, but Kit gets no say any more, and if it throws off your seating chart, I reserve the right to tell him to go to hell.’

She stole a sip of Chelsea’s wine, then shook her head, ‘I’m sorry. I just... I was actually hopeful. You guys forced me into this, but I was kind of excited, to get to do the dating thing. I mean... I’ve never dated, really. Not in an adult way.’

Evie snorted, ‘Yeah, I mean Jamie was nice and everything, but a bucket of popcorn and a movie is hardly how adults date these days.’

Mollie’s face went blank and she pursed her lips together, not saying anything. Wrong move, mentioning Jay. They didn’t mention Jay. Ever.

The silence stretched on until moment passed, and Evie tried to carry on, ‘Anyway, it was a bad experience, the first time at anything is crap. Try, try again, right?’

‘This isn’t my world,’ Mollie tugged at her hair, ‘Online dating? Apps and setups? You guys didn’t have to do that. Is it so bad that I want a meet-cute? Do people not have meet-cutes any more?’

Chelsea frowned, ‘I don’t think people know when they’re having a meet-cute. I mean, I got chatted up by some obnoxious git at a party, and I let him carry on talking because I’d had too much wine and his eyes were pretty. And she,’ Chelsea pointed at Evie, ‘spent weeks fighting with some guy she called the devil more than once, before realising she actually wanted to fight with him in between kissing.’

‘Nothing cute there,’ Evie nodded.

Mollie flipped her hair in frustration, hiding behind the long strands and staring at her friends from behind the curtain, ‘I don’t know why I agreed to do this. Why I thought I wanted to. I don’t want to. I’m happy. We’re happy. Esme’s happy. Why do I need to date?’

‘Because you’re not avoiding it because you’re happy, you’re avoiding it because you’re scared,’ Chelsea said sagely, pouring Mollie a glass of wine, mainly so she could drink her own in peace without it being stolen every five seconds.

‘So what?’ Mollie pouted, crossing her arms.

‘When you’re more immature than your kid, it’s time to wonder about the situation,’ Evie agreed, ‘I mean, I haven’t seen you pout since you were seventeen and someone stole your art project idea.’