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manager then. The fact he chose that job over you and told you he didn’t want you to go to Hong Kong with him, that just shows what an arrogant, selfish arse he is. I never liked him, if I’m honest.’

      ‘I’ll never forget what he said to me that night. Apparently our life together was “mediocre” and he felt “boxed in”, so he took the job and dumped me. I’m starting to wonder if there’s a bloke on this earth who’ll have me!’

      ‘Of course there is, you daft bugger!’ He chuckled softly and pulled me in for a hug. ‘You’re fantastic; why can’t you see that? Now that’s coming from someone who knows pretty much everything about you so it must be true! You’ll meet someone amazing one day, Ava.’

      I let my head rest against his shoulder and thought about what Amira would say if she could see us now. The thought of her flying into a rage for no reason made me laugh. In the distance, I could hear the low rumble of a car approaching the pub.

      ‘Here’s a thought,’ Max said, craning his neck to see if it was a taxi. ‘Why don’t you find him this time? He’s obviously keen that he’s started writing again, but you know what blokes are like; they need a right good kick up the arse at times. Maybe that’s what Mr Writer needs. Enjoy the letters while they come and try to figure out who’s sending them. That could be the unusual love story you were looking for; they don’t come quirkier than getting love letters from some mysterious admirer!’

      As I opened my mouth to explain why this was such a bad idea, a silver taxi slowed to a stop at the taxi rank across the road.

      I got back to my flat, which was pleasingly empty as Gwen was at Tom’s. I looked at the letter again, devouring its contents with an eagerness I hadn’t felt in six long years. Max’s words echoed in my head: you’ll meet someone amazing one day, Ava.

      Yeah right.

      After my disastrous track record, I was starting to think there was no such thing as ‘amazing’. Maybe it was time to accept that I was only ever going to be disappointed by love, that it wasn’t some great wave that propelled you to a higher plane of being. The part of me that believed in love was getting smaller and smaller; it would take something pretty spectacular to restore my faith.

      Something like… finding my secret admirer?

      The more I thought about what Max had said, the more it made sense. Perhaps I should try and unmask the man behind those beautiful words. I didn’t have anything to lose, did I? If I was successful, I’d find out who’d been sending me these letters. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t really be any worse off. My head swirled as I thought of the amazing mystery that could finally be solved if I just put my mind to it…

      No.

      Practicality took over and I abandoned the idea. I remembered all too well what had happened the last time I’d let Mr Writer into my life. I didn’t want to put myself through that humiliation again, whether he ‘seemed keen’ like Max had said or not. All my life, my heart had been under lock and key and that was how it would stay.

      The next morning, I woke up to an email from Miranda. Normally, these never brought happy news but today I was dreading reading it even more, thanks to my new position.

      From: [email protected]

      To: [email protected]

      Ava,

      Here are the details of your first assignment as Sleek’s wedding reporter. Please ensure you arrive promptly to the ceremony; the bride has expressly said she won’t tolerate lateness of any kind. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that you are responsible for maintaining Sleek’s excellent journalistic reputation, so please make sure you act in a professional manner throughout the ceremony and reception.

      Kind Regards

      Miranda

      I scoffed loudly and rolled my eyes. “Act in a professional manner”?! What did she think I was going to do, get drunk and smash the wedding cake before copping off with the best man?

      Not flipping likely, since weddings were my idea of a living hell. I’d been to enough to last me a lifetime and all the happy couples had ended up crumbling to dust.

      I scrolled down to see where the wedding was taking place; they were having an evening ceremony at a posh city centre hotel, followed by a reception at the same place. I raised my eyebrows in appreciation; if nothing else there would be good champagne. I was also getting my very own photographer for the night; someone from one of the agencies the magazine used. I looked at the date and my jaw dropped. It was tomorrow!

      ‘Miranda, you absolute cow.’ I threw my head into my hands and groaned.

      I had less than twenty-four hours to find a dress, research the couple, fix a meeting with them and prepare interview questions. It was as though Miranda was rooting for me to fail.

      Before I could get in too much of a flap about it, Gwen came into my room and flopped down on my bed. This was her typical hangover routine: wake me up, get me to take her to McDonald’s or Krispy Kreme then watch movies with me all day on the sofa. Today, however, she had a strange look in her eye that I wasn’t altogether comfortable with.

      ‘Look what I found in the living room this morning!’ She reached into her dressing gown pocket and pulled out the letter.

      My face flushed and I tried to bury my head in my duvet. I must’ve forgotten to put it back in my bag after looking at it last night. Gwen was too quick and snatched it away before I could take refuge.

      ‘When were you going to tell me about this, this is absolutely massive! Your secret admirer’s back after six bloody years!’

      I couldn’t help but smile. Gwen was treating this significant development with her usual trademark enthusiasm.

      ‘I was going to show you today,’ I replied. ‘Don’t quite know what to make of it really; I mean, why’s he getting in touch after all this time?’

      ‘Well that’s obvious; he’s been thinking about you since he stopped writing the letters, kicked himself and now he’s decided to put things right.’

      I loved how simple things were in Gwen’s world; if only the real world were like that.

      ‘What if it’s not that though; what if it was just a huge joke the whole time and now he’s back for another pop to see how much he can get me to fall for him?’

      She wrinkled her nose up and scoffed. ‘Unless he’s a major sad case with nothing better to do, I don’t think that’s the reason he’s writing again! This is big Ava; he must’ve been thinking about you all this time. Maybe this is all meant to be and it was just the wrong time for you guys at uni.’

      I raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘This isn’t a Disney movie Gwen, things like that don’t happen in real life.’

      ‘This is real though!’ She waved the letter in front of my face to prove her point. ‘Whoever’s writing these is obviously mad about you. If you want my opinion, I think you should try and find out who this guy is instead of waiting around for him. If you want him, go out there and get him.’

      Oh great, I thought, first Max says it and now Gwen! If both of my best friends were suggesting this utterly mad, hare-brained scheme to find my secret admirer, maybe I should give it some consideration. I couldn’t deny I was tempted. Getting the opportunity to put my Miss Marple hat on in the name of true love appealed to me.

      ‘Maybe you’re right. I wouldn’t know where to start though,’ I protested. I folded my arms in defeat and sunk back onto my pillows.

      Gwen shuffled her bum across the bed until she was sitting beside me. ‘Nowadays, if you want to find anyone you go on the internet. Make a blog or something; didn’t you say you had to write about an unusual love story?

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