E-Book Overview
Romeo, oh-no! Romeo Juliet is already wondering whether her live-in boyfriend Will has lost his lust for life -- and for her -- when tragedy strikes: He stands her up. On Valentine's Day. Then some jerk in a fancy car splashes her with icky London rain water, takes a good, hard look at her, and drives away. What's worse he was gorgeous, the kind of guy you dream would sweep you off your feet...or at least remember you on Valentine's Day. On top of having to win a big advertising account at work it's a wonder Juliet doesn't collapse into a puddle herself. The course of true love never did run smooth To Juliet's surprise, the mystery driver turns out to be an adman named Sykes -- her competition for the hot account -- and he's awfully sorry about the splashing. So sorry that he whisks Juliet away for a romantic weekend in Verona, the storied home of her Shakespearean namesake. A funny thing happens, though. When Juliet gets back, Will's all sweet again and Sykes pitches an ad campaign suspiciously similar to Juliet's. Suddenly it's time for fair Juliet to decide whether she and Sykes are meant-to-be star-crossed lovers -- or whether Romeo has been right by her side all along.
E-Book Content
CALLING ROMEO By Alexandra Potter
Chapter One
How would you feel if you were stood up? Embarrassed? Upset? Pissed of?? Juliet was all three. Sitting conspicuously by herself at a table for two in a fashionable bar-cumrestaurant in Soho, she glanced self-consciously at her watch—nearly 7:30—and tried to ignore the pitying glances of the cozy couples around her. She was going to kill Will. Being stood up was bad enough, but by her boyfriend. She'd been waiting for over half an hour, which didn't seem like a long time when she was curled up at home on the sofa watching Sex and the City—one minute it was the opening credits and Sarah Jessica Parker was stumbling around in a tutu, the next it was all over and the commercials were on—but it was a completely different storyline when she was marooned in the West End in a brand new pair of killer heels and a dress that should read "do not wear unaccompanied" next to the dry-clean-only instructions. The outfit was meant to get Will's attention, not that of the minicab driver, the workmen on the corner with their hard hats and hard-ons, and the suited cityboys at the bar. Draining the lukewarm dregs of her "house speciality" cocktail she toyed with the idea of another round. She'd already finished off the complimentary olives—and she didn't even like olives, nasty bitter bloody things—read the Evening Standard from cover to cover, including the boring pink bit that came in the middle, and sent text messages to everyone she could think of on her mobile. Now it was make her mind up time. Should she order another drink and give Will ten more minutes? Or go home, put a bunny on the boil and lie in wait for him with a bread knife? Juliet stabbed her last remaining ice cube with her straw. Feeling as she did right at that moment, she was sorely tempted to go for the bunny option. But instead she did what every female does in times of emotional crisis. She called her best friend. The answering machine picked up immediately. "Hi, you've reached Trudy Bernstein designs…" Email, fax and mobile numbers followed, plus an entire electronically piped verse of Chaka Khan's "I'm Every Woman" that seemed to go on forever. Finally there was the beep to record. "It's me, pick up the phone," hissed Juliet. She knew Trudy was at home screening her calls. She'd been doing nothing else since she'd met her new fling, Fergus, three weeks ago. Not that she was trying to avoid him: on the contrary, she was desperate to see him. But she didn't want him to know that. A firm believer in playing hard to get, Trudy wanted Fergus to think she was a cool, independent woman with a hectic social life, not a mass of insecurit