Page 86 of The Wedding Forecast

Bobbi is scrutinising me and I smile at her nervously. Do I really, truly want this? I have no idea. I’m still jet-lagged. I got off the plane less than twenty-four hours ago. Impulse decisions aren’t really my forte, and this is my second one in a week. Up until now, I have planned my career progression quite meticulously. My next step was supposed to be management.

‘Darling, I believe you, I think you have the skills to work here. I think you’d be a brilliant bookseller. I just want to make sure this is something you really want.’

My racing thoughts must be showing on my face.

‘It is,’ I say firmly.

‘Did you quit your job to start a career as a bookseller, or did you quit your job and now you’re panicking and you need something for the short term until you get a new marketing job? Because if it’s the latter, that’s fine, just be upfront with me.’

‘It’s neither. I quit my job, and I wasn’t sure what to do next, and I’ve always wanted to work here, and the whole thing seems like perfect timing. Like it’s fate. Meant to be.’

Bobbi purses her lips. She cannot resist a mention of fate. ‘And you know I can only offer part-time work and it’ll be a big pay cut from what you were getting before,’ Bobbi says.

‘Yes,’ I say, trying to be more sure than I really am.

‘Okay, you’re hired,’ she says, and she finally smiles. She claps her hands, grinning. This is classic Bobbi. Once a decision is made, it’s made. No second thoughts.

This is not classic me.

Bobbi comes around the counter and gives me a hug. She has worn the same perfume my whole life, a very subtle floral scent, that always makes me feel relaxed. I inhale it now to soothe my nerves.

‘Thank you,’ I say.

My heart is pounding a little. Is this what I want? Have I done the right thing? Should I go crawling back to Marco? Or update my LinkedIn profile and see what opportunities are out there in January? Rushing into this could be ill-advised, maybe, but it’s too late. My stomach churns.

‘When can you start?’

‘Now? Tomorrow? Whenever you need me.’

‘What about Boxing Day?’

‘Perfect.’

‘You’ll need a plan for how to tell your mother. She won’t like this.’

‘Maybe you could tell her?’ I say. ‘Say you begged me.’

Bobbi smiles. ‘Oh, I don’t think so. She’s going to have plenty to say about it to me as it is.’

‘Is this going to be awkward? Having me work for you?’

Bobbi pauses.

‘No,’ she says. ‘We’re basically family.’

Which is the problem, but I drop it.

It occurs to me that Hayley is possibly also not going to love the idea of me working with her mother. There’s a lot of layers to this, but it’s too late, the train has left the station and is speeding down the tracks—Bobbi is getting her phone to take a selfie of us to mark the occasion.

28

I DECIDE TO tell everyone about quitting and my new bookshop job on Christmas Eve. Our two families always spend Christmas Eve together, and everyone is always in good spirits. I’ll just slip it in over the cheese platter and wine, I think. But we’re well into the cheese and so far there hasn’t been a perfect moment. Later, I tell myself. Hayley has the slideshow of our holiday running on Bobbi and Jean’s big TV and everyone is distracted by that.

‘Look at that snow,’ Jean says admiringly.

‘Who took all these pictures of you in front of Christmas trees, Anna?’ Mum asks.

‘Um, just whoever was around,’ I say vaguely.