This London Love by Clare Lydon Page A

smart blue dress today with blue heels, looking every bit the publisher rather than an editor. She waited for Kate to come through the meeting room door, before shutting it and sitting down in one of the chairs.
    “Have you got a job interview or something?” Kate said.
    Dawn gave her a puzzled look.
    “The dress, the make-up.” Kate wafted her hand up and down in front of Dawn’s body.
    “Oh, that.” Dawn rolled her eyes. “Had a breakfast meeting this morning, so I thought I’d wow them. You know what marketing people are like.”
    “And did it work?”
    “I think it did. We’ve got some fabulous cover gifts all signed, so ‘operation dress’ was a success.” Dawn sat back.
    Kate gave her a high five. “Good work.”
    “Thanks.” Dawn paused. “But anyway, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”
    Kate sat up in her chair.
    “I spoke to Ben yesterday about putting the lesbian runners on the cover. I explained the feeling in the team, that we’d got a potential group in mind and that things have moved on since they tried it last time, which they have.”
    “And?” Kate’s interest was piqued.
    “And he agreed. So long as we partner it with something strong to appeal to our core readers, too — and believe me, the cover gift I’ve just secured is just that. So it’s all systems go. I’ll tell Hannah to get in touch with her mate and you can both go and flirt with the runners. Aren’t I lovely to you?” Dawn sat back, grinning some more.
    Kate chuckled. “You are the loveliest boss in the world. Shall we go and tell the troops?”
    They both got up. “After you,” Dawn said, rolling her hand in a royal wave.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    14
     
    Wednesday morning. Hump day. Meg was slouched behind the counter in the florist’s kneading her temples in a bid to stave off an impending headache. In truth, the headache had been lingering for around a year, but at least she had the shop as her refuge from her home life, her place to get some peace and boost her sanity levels.
    Not that she’d had a whole lot of peace today. Outside, the September weather was doing its usual unseasonal thing, but the sun searing the pavements was doing wonders for walk-in trade. People always bought more flowers in the sunshine; it was just the way of the world.
    “You want a cup of tea?” Meg’s mum appeared from the back of the shop where she’d spent the morning poring over spreadsheets and ordering paper and ribbon. Olivia’s cream blouse clung to her slender frame perfectly and she had a spring in her step, which fairly represented her attitude towards life: grab it, live it. And that attitude had only increased after her dicing with the grim reaper.
    “Go on, then. Couple of those biscuits wouldn’t go amiss either,” Meg said, through a yawn. She was still at a loss as to quite how her mum qualified as a heart attack sufferer — she was slim, walked everywhere and did yoga twice a week. But a heart attack she’d had.
    The doctors had informed them it was a hereditary heart defect, which had filled her and Jamie with no end of joy. Still, it was apparently controllable with some lifestyle changes and some clever white pills. Olivia took them grudgingly. Plus, she only worked two to three days a week now, and Meg was looking forward to the time when Olivia gave it up altogether — for Olivia’s health and Meg’s sanity. It wasn’t that she didn’t like working with her mum — but, having run the show in her mum’s absence, allowing her back was proving more painful than Meg had imagined.
    A few minutes later, Olivia walked back through carrying two mugs of tea. She put them down on the counter, then went to retrieve the biscuits.
    “So any big plans for the weekend?” Olivia’s eyelids were painted with smoky colours, her favourite for autumn. Whereas Meg’s make-up routine had been stuck at the same level for a fair few years now, her mum was into seasonal colours and could