Nothing New for Sophie Drew: a heart-warming romantic comedy by Katey Lovell (best autobiographies to read .txt) 📕

playing gooseberry. Johnny always fussed over Tawna. In one sense it was nice – showing he cared and literally couldn’t keep his hands off his future wife – but it did rather drum home my singleton status. Max had been friendly at the party, but he’d still not asked for my number. Admittedly, I’d made a quick exit to avoid the awkward situation with Darius, but we’d been sat next to each other for the duration of a three-course meal. He’d had plenty of time to make a move if he’d been so inclined. I liked Max a lot, but without his number I was helpless. I wasn’t brave enough to go to the shop to see him.

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be fun when you get there and the wine is flowing,” Jane said. “And their house is gorgeous, isn’t it? With the weather like this you might even be eating outside. What is it they call that?”

“A barbeque?” Kath suggested, a glint in her eyes.

“No! Al something or other.”

“Pacino?” Kath teased, before applying a slick coat of pearlescent baby-pink lipstick. The way it caught the light reminded me of my mum’s wedding pearls. When I was small I’d loved looking at the treasures in her jewellery box, smoothing my fingers over the surface of the beads, examining the colourful stones set against backdrops of silver and gold, but the pearls had been my favourite. “Capone?”

“Al Fresco,” I said, helping her out. Jane, bless her, isn’t the brightest. “And I don’t think it will be. They’re having work done. Tawna mentioned new decking being put down ready for the lighter evenings.”

“Either way, you have a good night, pet. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Kath quipped, which pretty much left me with my options wide open.

She breezed out of the building, waving over her shoulder as she left, and I scooped up my phone and water bottle (another money-saving effort – the amount I used to spend on takeout coffees and bottles of organic orange juice!) before following her lead and escaping the claustrophobic office.

The sounds of the city engulfed me; the aggrieved beeping of horns from irate drivers, the wailing of toddlers strapped into prams against their will, the after-work pub-goers sharing stories of their workdays as they spilt out onto the pavements.

I kept my eyes firmly on the floor as I passed the shops, not wanting anything in the windows to entice me. Three months into my new lifestyle, I was proud of myself. Twenty-nine-year-old Sophie would never have stayed within budget, but thanks to some manic online selling and savvy food shopping, the more mature me was rapidly decreasing the amount I owed.

Looking at the ground was my undoing, and the reason I found myself bumping, quite literally, into Max.

“Oh! I’m sorry!”

“Sophie.” He sounded surprised. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“It’s fine, I wasn’t concentrating either.”

“I’m meeting some friends at the pub and I was texting to see if they were already there.” He waved his handset as though to prove his point, pulling an apologetic face. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, no, I’m fine. I feel like a divvy, that’s all. You must think I’m a total klutz.”

His eyes connected with mine. His pupils looked enormous, magnified by the lenses of his glasses. “I didn’t think anything of the sort.”

My lips were dry, and embarrassment, like a weight pressing down on my tongue, stopped me from speaking.

“You’re welcome to join us at the pub. It’s nothing fancy, just a good old-fashioned boozer that serves decent real ales, and a group of us talking about music and films.”

“Umm…” The weight was still there, stopping me from saying anything coherent.

“It’d be nice to spend some time with you. I was looking for you at Johnny’s party, but after the meal you vanished. You’re probably busy though. It’s Friday night, of course you’ve already got plans. I just wanted to buy a drink to apologise for barging into you.”

I remembered grumbling to my workmates about the prospect of spending the night playing third wheel to Johnny and Tawna and their couple friends. A night in the pub with Max and his mates was tempting.

“No, I’d like to come.”

“You don’t have to say that to be polite. I understand if you’re meeting other people, or if you’re washing your hair…”

“Max.” I held up my hand to halt him. “I’d love to come for a drink with you. I’m going to Tawna and Johnny’s later, but as long as I only stay at the pub for an hour or so I’ll have plenty of time.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“Great. We’re meeting down here.” He pointed down a side street towards a pub I’d walked past hundreds of times but never been inside, and as we walked, he told me about the people we’d be meeting up with. “There’s Iain, Oz and Archie. They’re the guys in the band that were playing that night at the pub? I roadie for them from time to time, and Oz’s girlfriend usually comes along when she finishes work. They’re a good bunch, I promise.”

“I can’t imagine you’d be friends with anyone unless they were dead nice. Although I’ve got to say, I thought the one with all the tattoos looked a bit intense.”

“Archie? He’s a softie. The tattoos and eyeliner make him look tough, but it’s all part of a stage persona. The band’s his life. He really wants to make a go of the whole music thing.”

“They were good. That last song I heard before I left, the one with the long guitar solo, was great.”

The haunting riff had kept catching me unawares, playing on a loop somewhere in the back of my mind.

“It’s not bad, is it?” he said, shyly adding, “I helped write that one. I’m not in the band, but I hang out with them when they’re writing, sometimes.”

“You’ve got a talent.”

“Thanks, but I only play guitar for fun. I’m a roadie, not a rock star. Oz on the other hand…