I've Got Your Number (49 page)

“Me.”

“The girl who stole my phone.” His lips brush against the corner of my mouth. “The thief.”

“It was in a
bin
.”

“Still stealing.”

“No, it isn’t—” I begin, but now his mouth is firmly on mine and I can’t speak at all.

And suddenly life is good.

I know that things are still uncertain; I know that reality hasn’t gone away. There’ll be explanations and recriminations and messiness. But right now I’m entwined with a man I think I might love. And I haven’t married the man I know I don’t love. And from where I’m looking, that’s pretty good going, for now.

At last we draw away from each other, and across the road I can hear Annalise whooping in appreciation. Which is pretty tacky of her, but that’s just Annalise.

“I brought you some reading matter, by the way,” Sam says. “In case there was a dull moment.”

He reaches inside his jacket and produces a bundle of coffee-stained A4 papers. And as I see them, there’s a thickening in my chest. He kept them. Even after we parted so badly. He kept our texts.

“Any good?” I manage a nonchalant tone.

“Not bad.” He flips through them, then lifts his head. “Looking forward to the sequel.”

“Really?” And now the way he’s looking at me is making me tingle all over. “So, do you know what happens next?”

“Oh … I have a fair idea.” He trails his fingers down my back, and I feel an instant bolt of lust. I am
totally
ready for my honeymoon night.
¹⁰⁹
I don’t need the champagne or the canapes or the three-course dinner or the first dance. Or even the last dance.

But, on the other hand, there’s the small matter of two hundred people standing across the street, watching me, as though waiting for instructions. Some of them have traveled for miles. I can’t bail out on them.

“So … we’ve got this party,” I say tentatively to Sam. “It’s, like, all my friends and family, all at once, in a really intimidating bunch, plus all the friends and family of the guy I was supposed to marry today. And sugared almonds. You want to come?”

Sam raises his eyebrows. “You think Magnus will shoot me?”

“Dunno.” I squint at Magnus across the road. He’s standing there, along with everyone else, watching us. But as far as I can tell, he doesn’t look
too
homicidal.
¹¹⁰
“I don’t think so. Shall I send him a text and ask him?”

“If you like.” Sam shrugs, taking out his own phone.

Magnus. This guy I’m standing with is Sam. I know this isn’t exactly usual—but can I bring him to our wedding reception? Poppy xxx

PS—why don’t you bring a guest too??

A moment later I get a response.

If you must. Mag

Which isn’t exactly enthusiastic but doesn’t sound like he’s planning to shoot anyone either.
¹¹¹

I’m about to put my phone away when it bleeps again, and I stare in surprise. It’s a text from Sam. He must have just sent it a few seconds ago. Without looking at him, I open it to see:

<3

It’s a heart. He sent me a love heart. Without even saying anything. Like a little secret.

My eyes feel hot, but somehow I manage to stay calm as I type my reply:

Me too.

I want to add more … but, no. More can come later.

I press
send
then look up with a bright smile, take Sam by the arm, and draw up my train out of the dusty pavement.

“So. Come on, then. Let’s hit my wedding.”

THE END
¹¹²

¹⁰⁴
They’re still there, totally comatose.

¹⁰⁵
True.

¹⁰⁶
Apparently my mugs are “girly.”

¹⁰⁷
Aunt Trudy doesn’t believe shops exist outside Taunton.

¹⁰⁸
It
was
long enough, in the end. Just about.

¹⁰⁹
OK. Perhaps not
honeymoon night
exactly. They should have a special word meaning
night spent with lover one has jilted fiance for
.

¹¹⁰
In fact, he looks a lot better than he did when he was going to have to marry me.

¹¹¹
Personally, I would bet a
lot
of money that Magnus is snogging Annalise by the end of the night.

¹¹²
Footnotes by Poppy Wyatt.

FOR REX

Acknowledgments

I would like to take this opportunity to thank my publishers around the world. I am so grateful for all the fantastic editions of my books that you work on so lovingly.

A huge thank-you also to my readers for continuing to turn the pages, with a special wave to all of you who follow me on Facebook.

In particular I am eternally grateful to Araminta Whitley, Kim Witherspoon, David Forrer, Harry Man, Peta Nightingale, and Andrea Best—you know why! At The Dial Press I am lucky enough to be supported by a fabulous team and would like to thank especially Susan Kamil, Theresa Zorro, Sharon Propson, Avideh Bashirrad, and Debbie Aroff. And a special mention to the copy-editing team, who put so much care into the fine-tuning of all my books—a huge thank-you to Loren Noveck and Kathy Lord.

Finally—as ever—thanks and love to my boys and the Board.

ALSO BY SOPHIE KINSELLA

Confessions of a Shopaholic
Shopaholic Takes Manhattan
Shopaholic Ties the Knot
Can You Keep a Secret?
Shopaholic & Sister
The Undomestic Goddess
Shopaholic & Baby
Remember Me?
Twenties Girl
Mini Shopaholic

About the Author

S
OPHIE
K
INSELLA
is the author of the bestselling Shopaholic series, as well as
Twenties Girl
,
Remember Me?
,
The Undomestic Goddess
, and
Can You Keep a Secret?
She lives in England.