Mr Right Now by Mandy Baggot EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Mandy Baggot
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Bird poo and porridge were basically one and the same bloody thing as far
as Kate was concerned. Well, at least they were when it came to stains. No
matter how much you scrubbed, no matter what product you used, you were
always left with a white residue that stood out a mile.
A pigeon had shit on her in the car park, all over the shoulder of her one
decent work jacket. Old-style M&S she had picked up at a charity shop but
still in good condition. That meant the first four chargeable units of the
morning had been spent trying to get the mark off. And it was, as always, to
no avail. You could still see it and now it didn’t look like bird shit, it looked
like a semen stain.
It was 2.00 p.m. now and she had just noticed another mark on her
sleeve. This one was definitely porridge unless a bird had got very intimate
without her knowledge. Judging by the hard, crusted, almost concrete look
about it, it had possibly been there for weeks. She hadn’t had a chance to
get to the dry cleaners in ages.
Giuseppe gave her a good discount and his
mother’s special recipes for everything Italian, pasta and tomato based, but
dry cleaning was still something she considered a luxury. And, every time
Kate went in to Giuseppe’s, she suspected he knew she hadn’t tried any of
the recipes because she couldn’t cook and she was sure he could smell that.
The M&S jacket was one of those wool mix ones that you couldn’t just
put in the washing machine, which was probably why it had ended up in
Marie Curie. The last time she had risked the washing machine with a
jacket like that, it had shrunk to something not even a size-six model could
force herself into.
She hurriedly slipped it off her shoulders, ripped a paper towel from the
wall and wet it under the tap. For the second time that day, she began
dabbing and scrubbing and cursing under her breath, getting hotter and
more frustrated by the second. It wasn’t shifting; the paper towel was
disintegrating until the only things rubbing the stain were her fingers. Tears
began to well up in her eyes.
She had spilt coffee on her desk this morning
and had to share the lift with Smelly Milo from the post-room; the Ready
Brek was the last straw. It felt like her world was ending. This couldn’t be
how it was going to be from now on. She didn’t want to feel tired all the
time, inadequate all the time and she didn’t want to be sorting out soiled
clothes all the time, especially her own. What was next? Incontinence and
the nursing home? She was only just past thirty.
She was just about to give in to the emotion threatening to spill out
when the door to the toilets swung open with a bang and in walked her
boss, Miranda Marsh.
Blonde hair swishing, a reek of designer fragrance, and the familiar tip
tap of her Jimmy Choo’s introduced her. Now was no time for losing
control. A stiff upper lip was required and more restraint than a stag party in
a lap dancing bar.
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