Yours Truly Read Online Free

planned on doing nothing but trying out recipes for the perfect hollandaise sauce while Olly is out with his mates from the gym.
    “ I'll pay you, ” she pleads.
    I wouldn't normally accept money for looking after Jean-Paul Gaultier, he's the sweetest little poodle, but a bit of extra cash would not go amiss...
    “ Fine. No probs. ”
    “ Excellent, cheers, S is. But…do you mind if I pay you next month, rather than this? There's this dress I'm after in River Island and I really want to buy it for Saturday night. ” She grabs a lipstick off my dressing table, checks out the colour on her hand and then pockets it.
    “ But you wouldn’t have accepted money to look after him anyway, right? ”
    Yes.
    “ Oh, no, no. Course not. ”
    “ Awesome sauce. That's that sorted. When’s Olly getting here? ”
    Twenty minutes ago.
    “ He should be here any minute. Probably driving over here as we speak. I best get on. ”
    “ Right, ” says Dionne, flipping her blonde hair so that it lands in a perfect arrangement over her shoulder. “ Well, I’ve got to go anyway - Jean-Paul Gaultier needs a walk and then Bull and I are going to his ho use to watch Scarface. H is uncle’s cousin was a consultant on the set of the movie. He had to make sure it was all true to life and realistic and stuff. It’s all very close to Bull’s heart. ”
    I picture Al Pacino and his massive desk mountain of cocaine and wonder how realistic that scene was. And then I wonder how worried I should be about this Bull fella and his murky connections.
    “ When do we get to meet him, then? ”
    Dionne bites her lip and shrugs, “ Soon. He’s shy. ”
    A shy gangster. What next? An interesting accountant? An obedient hairdresser?
    On her way out of the room Dionne grabs my favourite silver and turquoise scarf - the one I intend to wear to the pub tomorrow - from the wardrobe door and flings it around her neck.
    “ Oooh, can I borrow this? ”
    “ Well, actually - ”
    “ Smell ya later, sis! ” She dives out, not bothering to wait for my reply.
    Arrrrrrgh!
    Fifteen minutes later a horn beeps outside. Olly! I check my lip-gloss in the mirror, hop downstairs, and with a quick ‘see you later’ to M um, head out of the door and into Olly’s car.

CHAPTER THREE
    TEXT FROM: DIONNE.
    4got to tell u Bull’s mate does wedding cake 4 cheap. All styles. Even glitter cakes.
     
    REPLY TO: DIONNE
    Sounds great! Nt sure abt glittery cake though…
     
     
    After all the no ise and wedding stress back at M um’s house it is quite lovely to be in the silence of Olly’s apartment. We’re snuggled up on his huge black leather sofa watching some kind of sporty programme on Sky Sports. I’m not so much watching as peering at the telly and wondering why the men on the screen are wearing Lycra bodysuits. I am thoroughly enjoying the feel of Olly’s lovely arm flung around my shoulder, though. He lifts his bum off the sofa in excitement; something apparently interesting is happening on the screen involving weird grunting from the Lycra men. I don’t really understand it all but gasp with feigned interest, nevertheless. In response, Olly turns to me and blows a kiss before eagerly returning to the Lycra action.
    I’m not really into sports and stuff but Olly loves it. Really loves it. He’s very into fitness and weight training. Every morning at six on the dot he wakes up and heads to the gym to ‘get pumped’ for an hour before coming back to pick me up and drive us both into Manchester for work. How committed is that? And then on the weekends he does paintballing with his friends and plays golf with his dad. His favourite things in the world are his car, me (presumably) and competitive sports. Sometimes I wonder how the heck we’re still together. Him a muscled, wheatgrass drinker, and me decidedly soft, (all right, flabtastical) around the edges. He doesn’t seem to mind at all though. Obviously he thinks I should lose a little weight for the sake of