Playing for Keeps: A fun, flirty romantic comedy perfect for summer reading

I was far too busy to fly out there, even for a day. Sure, as the time stretched on, the independent woman in me was doing well, but the nights grew lonelier than I wanted them to be. But I was coping. I was strong. It made me wonder, if I wasn’t a crumbling mess, then did Anthony really miss me that much?

During our first week of separation I went about my day as if a big part of me was missing. Anya thought it soppy and kept reminding me about what great ‘miss you’ sex we’d have when Anthony finally finished that bloody commission. Of course I didn’t tell her that there had been very little action in the bedroom when Anthony was here, so that wasn’t the issue. It was ironic he should say anything about my talking dirty because, prior to his leaving, our love life was just that: all talk. All I was really longing for was for Anthony and me to sort out what was missing. Something certainly was.

‘I love you, darling, but I’d better go,’ I said, looking at the image of Anya and her baby bump, posing for a Marie Claire article, on my phone.

‘No problem,’ said Anthony. ‘Love you too.’

‘Oh, you are there,’ said Anya in a clipped voice when I picked up.

‘Is everything all right?’ I was sitting to attention now.

‘Actually I need you to come over. I’m having Braxton Hicks contractions.’

‘Do you even know what Braxton Hicks contractions are, Anya?’

‘Not entirely. But the baby might come at any moment and you’re supposed to be my birth partner.’

‘The baby isn’t coming at any moment, hon. You’ve weeks to go and you were perfectly fine today at the interviews.’

‘Those interviews must have brought on the Braxton Hicks.’

‘Darling, Braxton Hicks are the practice contractions,’ I said relaxing into the sofa now I knew it was nothing serious. ‘You’re not about to give birth if those are the kind of contractions you’re having. They just let you know your body is getting ready for the big event. That’s all. I remember Amber going into labour – both times – and believe me, you’ll be in no doubt when it’s the real thing.’

‘Frighten me, vye don’t you, Madge!’

‘I’m sorry, but you know this whole giving birth thing is a bit more involved than a few ripples in your tummy, right?’

‘Okay, great. Now I’m really freaking out.’

‘Anya, I think when the time comes, you’ll surprise yourself. Just chill. Run a bath. That’s what I’m going to do.’

‘Madge, I’m getting so bored. I vish this baby vould come already.’

‘Just relax and bide your time. He’ll be here sooner than you know.’

I retired to my own bath after talking Anya down from the ledge. Sinking beneath the bubbles I whisked myself to the seafront in Italy, holding hands with Anthony, walking along the beach and watching waves beat in against the wet rocks. I finally began to chill out. I could feel the tension leave my face, my neck and my shoulders. I let out a long sigh and felt sleepy in no time. My eyelids closed and opened involuntarily, lingering sweeps of my lashes on my cheeks, blotting out the candlelit bathroom and taking me off somewhere far away from Chelsea.

I allowed my eyes to close for a while and suddenly I saw Hugo. He was sitting on the rocks by the sea, wearing a white cotton shirt that flapped at the collar because of a strong wind. He was pale and he was waiting for me but he hadn’t noticed me making my way along the rocky beach. Just then Anthony walked right by him, blocking Hugo from sight. Anthony didn’t notice me either. I suddenly felt cold. I waved my arms so they could both see I was there. Somewhere nearby I heard water by my ear and felt myself sinking beneath it. I woke with a start only to find I’d drifted off to sleep in the bath. The bubbles had melted and one of my candles had flickered out.

Chapter 9 (#ulink_02d4d4b9-a9ef-5226-9014-a3b747a93720)

I was beginning to run out of energy. Each day of my life seemed to be jam-packed with things to do, all of them pressing and needing my constant attention. Riley was proving to be a whizz around the office. She still had a haphazard way of going about things, was terribly scatter-brained and forgetful at times, but that was the girl I’d hired, hoping she’d morph into a super personal assistant. She hadn’t. But nowadays, when Riley said ‘leave it to me’ and tapped the side of her nose, she always came up with the goods – even if coming up with the goods was only at the last minute. Competent but rather idiosyncratic is how I would describe her now. No matter how she made things happen I was just so grateful to have some pressure taken off my shoulders.