Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [110]
Of course not.
Life is so unfair, thought Miranda.
`I'm not being cruel.' She gave Miles a consoling pat on the leg. `You're just too ugly for me.'
He laughed, picking up her hand and kissing it. `Remind me again. Why is it I like you so much?' `I'm just an all-round lovely person,' said Miranda.
`Don't forget what I told you,' Bev said bossily the next morning when she had expertly dragged every last detail of the date out of Miranda. `He's only playing around while Daisy's off the scene. It's not serious, you do know that, don't you?'
Bev was starting to sound like a stuck record. It was like being lectured by a teacher - deep down, you knew they were right, but it was still deeply irritating having to sit and hear them out. Particularly when what they were telling you was that, basically, you had about as much chance with Miles Harper as Dot Cotton did with Brad Pitt.
Keen to get off the subject, Miranda said, `You've got a run in your tights.'
`Oh damn!' Bev, who never went anywhere without a spare pair of Donna Karans, reached for her bag. `I'll have
to go and change.' Hooray! `Just so long as you don't sleep with him, okay?'
`I'm not going to.' The words came out through gritted teeth.
`Are you seeing him again?'
`No.' Miranda prayed her nose hadn't just grown an inch longer.
Bev nodded, pleased to be proved right. Miles Harper was evidently bored with her already.
`Well, it's for the best. If you don't get involved, you can't get hurt, can you?'
Too late for that, thought Miranda. Aloud, dutifully, she said, `No.'
Bev hesitated. `What's his friend like anyway?'
Oh, for heaven's sake, did the girl never stop? Miranda tried hard to imagine Bev and Johnnie - the ultimate lad's lad - together. It would be even more of a disaster than his blind date with poor droopy Alice.
Bev was looking hopeful.
Miranda shook her head.
`Definitely not your type.'
When she arrived at Miles's flat at seven o'clock Miranda spotted a photographer lurking on the pavement outside. Following Miles's instructions, she strolled past his house, turned left into Percival Mews, hopped over his neighbour's wall, made her way across their back garden and jumped over another wall on to Miles's patio.
He opened the French windows, stripped to the waist and laughing, and drew her swiftly inside.
`All this subterfuge and we aren't even sleeping together.'`I feel so sleazy,' Miranda protested.
`Sounds promising.' Miles surveyed her with amusement. `Is that an invitation?'
`No, and your phone's ringing.'
She tried not to listen to him on the phone, but it was horribly obvious who was on the other end.
Oh God, what am I doing here? Miranda closed her eyes. Why am I such a masochist?
`That was Daisy,' said Miles.
`I guessed.' She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans in don't-care fashion.
`She's flying back tomorrow night. I have to meet her at Heathrow at eight. And wear something decent,' he added wryly, `because her agent's arranged for a few photographers to be there, to witness our touching reunion.'
Please, please, thought Miranda, don't ask me to iron one of your shirts.
`You don't mind staying in this evening, do you?' said Miles.
`Why?' Miranda raised her eyebrows. `Where are you going?'
He smiled and led her through to the kitchen.
`I thought I might stay in too, if that's okay with you. Quality time together, with no interruptions. Besides, my team manager gets twitchy if he sees pictures in the press of me gallivanting round town when I should be taking it easy, preparing for the next race.'
`I don't suppose Daisy would be too thrilled either.'
`Sshh, I don't want to talk about Daisy now. Anyway,' Miles's mouth twitched, `I've got something to show you that I think you might like.'
`And I've already told you, I don't want to see it.'
But when he pulled open the fridge door with a flourish, Miranda had to admit that she was impressed.
`This is good. Very good.'
`Last night you cast aspersions on my kitchen. You said some extremely hurtful things about this fridge.'