Miranda's Big Mistake - Jill Mansell [80]
`Do you like Chloe?' said Miranda abruptly. For some reason the question had been preying on her mind all week. `I mean, do you… fancy her?'
Danny almost laughed aloud.
`No. No, of course I don't fancy Chloe.'
Next question, he silently willed her to ask.
Instead, Miranda let out a yelp as a blob of whipped cream dropped from her finger, landing on the front of her T-shirt.
`Bugger.' Scooping the worst of it off and gazing in dismay at the chocolate-streaked stain, she dragged a crumpled tissue out of the back pocket of her jeans. Something else flew out at the same time, catapulting through the air behind her and landing at the feet of a man engrossed in his copy of The Times.
Danny retrieved it while Miranda scrubbed energetically at her front with the tissue.
`It's no good, it won't come out. Lucky we've got spares back at the salon.'
`Um, you dropped this.'
The look on his face was to die for. He was trying so hard to appear nonchalant.
`Oh, thanks.' Miranda took it from him. `Always make sure I keep one with me at work.' She patted her pocket. `After all, you never know who might come into the salon.'
Yes, yes, there was that look again…
`You are joking,' Danny said finally.
`Of course I'm joking. Ha, you're easily shocked, aren't you?' Beaming, Miranda neatly tucked the condom into his wallet, which lay unfastened on the table between them. `It was a present from Eleanor Slater, if you must know. And now it's yours.'
`Why?' Danny gazed at his wallet in alarm. God, how horrible if using Eleanor Slater's condom meant he had to think of Eleanor Slater. Now there was an effective contraceptive device in a league of its own.
`You may as well have it,' said Miranda. `The way my life's going, I won't be having sex again before I'm eighty.'
As they were leaving the coffee bar, Miranda's attention was caught by a photograph of Miles Harper in The Times sports section.
Next to her, Danny was saying, `Everything that happens in life, it's for the best.'
This was evidently meant to reassure her.
Flick, went the newspaper and Miles briefly disappeared from view.
`Okay, come on, that's complete cobblers for a start,' Miranda retaliated. `If I ran out into the road now and got knocked down by a bus, what would be so great about that?'
`Okay, stupid remark, forget I said it.' Danny smiled. `I was just trying to cheer you up.'
`Well, don't. You're useless at it.'
The man holding his Times turned a page and Miles magically reappeared.
`What are you peering at?'
`Nothing,' Miranda said shiftily. But it was too late; he had already followed the line of her gaze.
`Miles Harper? He did pretty well yesterday,' said Danny. Miranda had forgotten all about the Canadian Grand Prix. She'd had other things on her mind.
`Where did he finish?'
`Second.'
`Second? That's brilliant!' Her eyes widened with delight. That would really move Miles up the table… heavens, it put him only seven points behind the current leader. Not that she'd been keeping score, of course. Well, not much…
`There you go,' Danny observed, his tone dry. `I knew I could cheer you up.'
Chapter 34
`I've got mumps,' Miranda croaked into the receiver. `It's awful. I look like a gerbil with bulimia.'
`Mumps!' Greg sounded horrified. `I've never had mumps!' I know that, you berk, thought Miranda. Otherwise what would be the point of telling you I've got it?
`Isn't it a nuisance? I won't be able to see you for a whole week-'
`Longer than that,' Greg cut in, concerned for certain parts of his anatomy. Didn't mumps cause them to swell up agonisingly, like footballs?
Miranda rushed to reassure him. `Oh no, six days is fine. I checked with the doctor. Just as well, too, otherwise I'd have had to miss the wedding of the year.'
In the privacy of his living room, Greg stuck his hand down the front of his Nike jogging pants, making sure his testicles weren't quietly swelling up behind his back… so to speak.
`Wedding?' No, thank God, they seemed okay. `Why,