Miranda's Big Mistake Read Online Free Page A

hopeless. What on earth am I going to say to the client when he turns up?’
    â€˜Um…’
    â€˜And Fenn is going to kill you.’
    â€˜He won’t.’ Miranda spoke with more conviction than she felt. ‘I asked if I could have them. He said it was okay.’
    Well, he had. Kind of. The only niggling drawback was, Fenn had been pretty busy at the time. And although technically he had said yes, Miranda couldn’t help feeling that maybe he’d meant yes, she could have the gloves if nobody turned up to claim them within, say, the next six months.
    Rather than the next six seconds.
    She bit her lip.
    â€˜Well, if Fenn told you it was okay,’ said Bev, ‘that’s fine. He can make the groveling apologies when the client gets here. Maybe he’d even like to pop along to Harvey Nichols and buy him another pair.’
    Miranda winced.
    â€˜After all,’ Bev continued remorselessly, ‘those gloves cost about two hundred quid.’
    They were great friends. She was extremely fond of Miranda, who was dippy and good-hearted. The trouble was, Miranda was always getting herself into…well, trouble. She had a habit of making mistakes.
    â€˜Well?’ said Bev.
    â€˜Okay, okay,’ Miranda groaned, thrusting the broom into her hands. ‘Just cover for me. If Fenn asks where I am, tell him I’m in the loo. I’ll be back in two minutes .’
    As she raced to the door, Bev called after her, ‘Honestly, the muddles you get yourself into.’ She broke into a broad grin. ‘I’m glad I’m not you.’
    Me too, thought Miranda as she pelted hell for leather up the Brompton Road, I wish I wasn’t me either.
    Oh God, this was definitely going to be awkward.
    He was still there, thank goodness. When he spotted her running towards him, he nodded and raised one hand briefly in greeting, waggling his fingers to show her he was still wearing the nice warm gloves.
    â€˜This,’ said Miranda, ‘is so embarrassing.’
    â€˜What’s wrong?’
    Her teeth began to chatter with cold and shame. It was still raining and she’d dashed out without her coat.
    â€˜The gloves. They…er, belong to someone. And…um, well, now they want them back.’
    Dear God, what must he think of me? Playing Lady Bountiful one minute, and all but stripping him naked the next.
    He didn’t even blink.
    â€˜Okay.’
    â€˜Sorry,’ said Miranda with an air of desperation. ‘I feel terrible.’
    â€˜And I keep telling you, no need to apologize.’ He peeled off the gloves and held them out to her, smiling faintly as he did so. ‘They weren’t really me, anyway.’
    â€˜Thanks.’
    Feeling a complete heel, she took them from him.
    â€˜Do you need the scarf back as well?’
    â€˜No! Stop ,’ she almost yelled in alarm as he began to unwind it from around his neck, ‘you can definitely keep the scarf!’
    â€˜That’s okay then.’ Relieved, he patted it back into place. ‘Actually, I prefer the scarf.’ His dark eyes registered self-deprecating amusement. ‘It’s much more my style.’
    ***
    As she burst through the tinted glass door to the salon, Miranda heard a male voice saying, ‘…at least now I don’t have to buy a new pair.’ In the nick of time she shoved the gloves under her T-shirt.
    Bev, who had been stalling the man and simultaneously doing her best to impress him with (a) her chest and (b) her dazzling repartee, visibly exhaled with relief when she saw Miranda and the odd-shaped bump protruding beneath her own, considerably smaller, breasts.
    â€˜Mission accomplished,’ Miranda murmured when they met up seconds later in the cloakroom. Producing the gloves with a flourish, she waggled them in front of Bev, like cow’s udders.
    â€˜This is known as a skin-of-your-teeth experience. He’s in a rush.’ Bev grabbed the