It's Now or Never by Jill Steeples

to.’
    Now I felt churlish and ill-mannered, but there was no getting away from the fact that Alex and I were completely different people with completely different needs. Hadn’t Angie warned me that he was a serial dater and the last thing I wanted was to be the next name on his, no doubt, exceedingly long tbd (to be dated) list.
    â€˜I mean,’ he said, now picking up my hand again and looking deep into my eyes. ‘I’m deeply hurt and disappointed at the thought that you might not want to see me again, but if that’s the way you really feel, then what can I do.’ He dropped my hand with a sigh. ‘I’ll just have to roll with that.’
    He looked at me imploringly and I couldn’t help my toes from curling and my mouth smiling at him in return.
    â€˜You know I went back to the wine bar to collect the letter you wrote me.’
    â€˜You did!’ His brow furrowed and his eyes darkened. ‘Well I do hope they didn’t give it to you.’
    â€˜No, they didn’t. I couldn’t believe it. The girl was a right miserable bitch. All sour-faced and hanging on to that envelope as though her life depended on it. Honestly, I felt like slapping her.’
    â€˜Blonde hair, tall, skinny?’
    â€˜Yes, that’s her.’
    â€˜She’s a friend of mine actually. I’m glad to hear she was only doing her job properly.’
    Oh god, why didn’t that surprise me? Now I’d only gone and insulted his friend too.
    â€˜Look,’ he said, laughing it away. ‘Just take a chance, Jen. It’s only dinner. Call it a one-off. If you hate it, and me, I promise you’ll never have to see me again.’
    When he put it like that I honestly couldn’t see any reason to refuse.
    â€˜Okay,’ I said, downing the rest of my cappuccino as though it were a vodka, ‘that would be lovely.’
    â€˜Really?’ Alex’s face lit up as though he hadn’t actually believed I would consent. ‘How about next Friday then?’
    â€˜Perfect!’ I could be that girl who dated in a carefree and casual manner without losing my heart to the extremely good-looking man opposite me. I would just need to practice.

Chapter Nine
    â€˜Oh my god! What is that revolting smell?’
    It was the first time I’d seen Angie in months, ever since the wedding in fact. She waltzed through my front door radiating good health; her hair was kissed with highlights from the sun and her skin was peppered with freckles, but there was something else about her too, an indefinable magical quality that made her look different somehow, changed in some way from the single girl I used to know.
    She stopped in her tracks on her way down my hallway and took a deep inhalation. Her mouth curled in disgust, before she gagged and covered her mouth with her hand.
    â€˜Really, Jen, what is that stench? Has someone died?’
    â€˜It’s my chilli jam bubbling away on the stove. I’m not sure what’s happened actually. This is my third batch. The first lot I had to chuck out because it was too runny, the second lot was so thick you could stand a spoon up in it and this lot is smelling really vinegary. I’m not entirely sure where I’m going wrong.’
    â€˜Eugh, listen to you Goldilocks.’ Angie shuddered with distaste. ‘So, what’s with the domestic goddess stuff then?’
    â€˜Oh, it’s for my new blog. I’ve only got a dozen or so followers at the moment, but I’m hoping to grow it over the next few months. I’ve been trying to put up a couple of posts a week. Seasonal gardening tips, simple craft projects, country kitchen recipes, that kind of thing. Molly from work gave me a jar of homemade chilli jam last Christmas and it tasted absolutely divine. I thought it would make a really popular post. How to grow your own chillies at home, making the jam and then decorating the jars for