You Have Got to be Kidding Me: A Sizzling Spicy Rom-Com by Jazz Delenz

Author:Jazz Delenz [Delenz, Jazz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-26T00:00:00+00:00

Something miraculous happened. Something wondrous and almost supernatural. It was so unprecedented, I almost had to dismiss it as a hallucination.

There were no delays on the Northern Line.

I know, I was as flabbergasted as you are, but it's true. Even so, I got to the Chlamydia Café (sorry, Clematis) a little over a quarter of an hour late. A bloody superhuman effort if you ask me.

I think the most charitable thing I can say about this place is that it was… twee? The wallpaper was covered in little pink and mauve flowers; there were dried arrangements of little pink and mauve flowers; even the floor lino was decorated with – do you think you can guess for yourself? Yep, see, you didn't need my help – little pink and mauve flowers. This was possibly quite close to my own personal hell. Sure, I could do the girl thing, but not with pretty little namby-pamby flowers. I liked bold colours – lots of reds and yellows and vibrant purples. And I was a total sucker for a big, happy bunch of sunflowers. Not insipid pastels in muted patterns.

This was one of the many, many areas where my mother and I differed. Frankly, I sometimes seriously wondered whether there had been a mix-up at the maternity hospital. Maybe she wasn't really my mother after all. Maybe I was actually the heiress to a vast fortune. Or a princess, who should rightfully take the crown of some Eastern European monarchy. Moldova or Macedonia. Something beginning with M. Although, quite why an Eastern European heiress would be born in Maidstone Maternity Hospital was a bit of a mystery.

The café seemed to be divided into two main areas, giving it a kind of hourglass shape. The outer area, nearest the front door, had half a dozen tables, all covered in plastic tablecloths with images of boobs on them. Okay, not really. It was more bloody clematis. Only one table was occupied, by a Japanese family of one man and three women, apparently spanning three generations. But the other part of the establishment was where most of the action seemed to be taking place.

I peeked in and froze. Oh. My. God. Yes, it was my mother. Obviously it was. I mean it couldn't be anyone else, could it? There didn't seem to be many customers. Most had probably run screaming from the café as soon as my mother had arrived. Several tables were positioned against the walls, a couple of which were occupied by nervous looking couples. They were probably only there because they had been literally stupefied, unable to move, let alone flee in terror. There was one table in the centre of the room, and that had four occupants. Three of them appeared to be waiters, dressed in black trousers, white shirts and waistcoats. Two were standing and one was sitting. I'm sure he would have preferred not to be sat at the table, but was unable to escape. Whereas everyone else was too

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