Read Online The Wedding Countdown by Ruth Saberton - Free Book Online Page A

said it was a mountain. Nina Singh is going to see me at some stage and this thought fills me with terror. I feel like I’m waiting to see the dentist.
    Raj breezes over and plonks another wodge of copying down.
    ‘See her?’ he stage whispers, waving a languid hand in the direction of a girl dressed in the oddest mixture of Burberry and Kappa. ‘That’s Kareena. She holds the title of Office Gossip Monger.’
    ‘Really?’ I’ve only known Raj a couple of hours but I would have tipped him for that position.
    ‘Never tell her anything personal unless you want it to be public knowledge before lunch time.’
    ‘I’ll try to remember that,’ I say. ‘What’s her role here?’
    ‘Her official title is PA. And no, that actually doesn’t stand for Public Address, which of course it should, but for personal assistant.’
    Kareena, sensing she’s being talked about, glowers at us. Undeterred, Raj blows her a kiss. ‘She’s about as much use as a chocolate kettle but wildly entertaining. Her dearest ambition is to be a WAG so she’s just biding her time until some Premier League hunk whisks her away to a life of shopping.’ He looks thoughtful. ‘You don’t think there are any gay footballers who’d want to whisk me away for a life of hedonism, do you?’
    ‘Um. No. I don’t think so.’
    ‘Pity,’ sighs Raj. ‘I suppose I’d better get on with doing some work while I wait for Johnny Depp to realise he’s gay. Keep busy, darling girl!’ And off he flounces, back to his desk.
    Feeling flat I begin the next pile of photocopying. Most of the office staff have followed Raj’s lead and given me theirs too. So much for the exciting assignments I’d been hoping for. The office is buzzing with the rumour that Celina Roshan, the stunning Bollywood actress, is buying a house in London with a mystery man, and two reporters have already been dispatched to root out the truth. That’s where I want to be! Following leads and hunches and breaking big stories. Not flipping photocopying.
    I suppose even John Humphrys had to start somewhere.
    I sigh heavily and then start because I’m no longer alone.
    ‘Sorry,’ says the guy who’s joined me, his voice as rich as chocolate fudge cake. ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump but you looked like you needed rescuing.’
    I open my mouth and for a moment no sound comes out because the sight of him has stolen my powers of speech. He has café au lait skin, dark just-out-of-bed hair and cheekbones so chiselled that you could ski off them. The whole effect is shockingly sexy.
    Eve would be so jealous of this office view!
    ‘Rescuing?’ I croak. ‘What from?’
    ‘Your photocopying! It’s the favourite staff gag, giving the newbies a mundane task like photocopying or filing. Everyone plays along; we’ve all been there.’
    ‘You mean I don’t have to do all this?’ I glance at the Everest of paper stacked alongside me.
    He smiles and I notice the dimple in his cheek. ‘Kareena’s supposed to do this kind of stuff but she and Raj aren’t talking at the moment.’
    ‘But Raj doesn’t like her,’ I say, feeling stupid as I realise I’ve been stitched up good and proper. ‘He said to give her a wide berth because she’s the office gossip.’
    His green eyes crinkle. ‘To be fair, Raj and Kareena share that title. They bicker but they’re thick as thieves most of the time. My advice is don’t trust either of them! They’re great fun but they take working for a gossip magazine very seriously – bitching and rumour mongering are their true vocation.’
    ‘Oh crap,’ I groan. ‘I believed him. I assumed photocopying is what new interns do. That and coffee making, of course.’
    ‘Actually I think coffee making probably is on your job description. I’m Darwish by the way, Chief Photographer, but everyone calls me Wish. Welcome to GupShup !’
    Wish holds out his hand and I shake it, hoping none of my auntie- jis have set up Big Brother -style cameras in the