Playing the Playboy's Sweetheart

‘I just want back out there …’ Louise admitted.

‘Have you told Miriam?’

‘Not yet.’ Louise winced at the very thought. ‘I haven’t actually applied for a position yet, I’m just putting out feelers, but I don’t think Miriam will be very pleased—a lot of staff have left recently.’

‘Well, she should have thought of that before she moved the goalposts for getting a promotion,’ Emily said, but as Louise went to open her mouth to respond she stopped her. ‘If another person tells me I’ll be great and that it will fly by, I won’t be responsible for my response.’

‘I’ll say nothing, then.’ Louise smiled. ‘I’ll get you a drink instead.’

Hugh arrived just as dessert was being served. Emily was sitting chatting to Alex and Jennifer when Hugh came over. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, which was a bit uncalled for, but, yes, at the time Emily put it down to the fact that it was her leaving do.

‘Sorry, I tried to get here earlier …’ Hugh said.

‘It’s fine.’

‘I got stuck up on ICU …’

‘Really, Hugh, it’s fine,’ Emily said. She had no idea why he was making such a fuss about not getting here on time—a lot of her colleagues were only dropping in for a drink after all.

‘I’ll get you a drink,’ Hugh offered.

‘I don’t want one …’ Emily said, only Hugh wasn’t listening. He headed off to the bar and returned with something very icy and bubbly and so not what Emily wanted. She’d had a bit too much icy and bubbly and she wasn’t a big drinker at the best of times but everyone seemed determined to buy her one tonight.

‘You’ll be dancing on the tables in a few weeks,’ Hugh said, squeezing a chair into the tiny gap between herself and Louise.

‘Why?’

‘I’m here tomorrow night with the emergency mob for Gina’s thirtieth—believe me, the theatre staff’s nights outs are very civilised in comparison to that lot.’

Emily went over to speak with Connor, another theatre nurse, but Hugh was like an annoying wasp and hanging around her like some lovesick teenager. Frankly, he was starting to really annoy her.

‘What?’ Emily snapped, when still Hugh hovered. ‘What’s going on, Hugh?’

‘Can I have that ten minutes now?’

‘Fine,’ Emily sighed, and turned to him.

‘Outside.’

‘Hugh, it’s my leaving do, I’m not going to—’

‘Ten minutes.’

Emily headed outside.

‘I want to ask you something. You know what I said about us still being single—do you want to give us a try?’

Emily was taken aback by his directness.

‘No.’

‘Can I ask why?’

‘I don’t need to give a reason.’ She went to head back but Hugh caught her arm.

‘I’ve still got nine minutes of your time left.’

‘Use them wisely, then,’ Emily said.

‘Okay.’ Hugh took a breath. ‘Second question. Would you consider pretending to go out with me?’

‘Pretend?’

‘I want the consultancy. Alex likes you …’

‘That’s the most ridiculous idea I’ve ever heard. He’d soon find out you were lying.’

‘Not if we’re clever about it.’

‘No.’

‘Give me one good reason why not,’ Hugh said.

She looked at Hugh, his hair flopping over his eyes, his green eyes smiling, and he was just so cocky and assured, so utterly at ease with himself that Emily could tell he was a touch taken back that she hadn’t jumped at the chance to be his fake girlfriend.

‘You know what Alex is like,’ Hugh persisted. ‘He hasn’t come right out and said it but the writing’s on the wall—he wants to know that my party days are over before he’ll give me the consultancy.’

‘But they’re not over,’ Emily pointed out.

‘They could be for the next couple of months.’

‘I’m not handing over two months of my life to be your fake girlfriend—’

‘No,’ Hugh interrupted. ‘I’m not asking for two months, I’m asking for a couple of Saturday nights and the occasional wedding. I could come down to Cornwall at the weekend and kick things off with a few photos. You’re not seeing anyone and surely …’ He hesitated.

‘Go on.’

‘It will be exciting.’

‘Really!’ Emily was having trouble keeping an incredulous smile from her lips. ‘Tell me how.’

‘Well …’ Hugh actually had the decency to look a touch uncomfortable. ‘You said that your holiday was going to be a bit boring …’

‘No, I didn’t,’ Emily corrected him. ‘I said my holiday was going to be very quiet, which, somewhere between here …’ she tapped her lips ‘… and there …’ she tapped his forehead ‘… you translated as boring. A week in a cottage, doing nothing, isn’t boring, Hugh.’

‘It certainly wouldn’t be if I came along.’ Hugh grinned.

‘Would I have to sleep with you?’ Emily asked. ‘In this little charade of yours, would sex be on the books?’