“Now you’re making me believe we really did know each other when we were little, because I did have such grandiose thoughts back then. I was a little girl who wanted to stretch myself beyond my limits even from a young age. I also wanted to be a cross between Baby and Sporty Spice.”

“You could have been Golfy Spice.”

“The member they never knew they were missing.”

The corners of Jordan’s mouth turned upwards. “You could still do it.”

“Be a Spice Girl? I think that ship has sailed.”

“Not for your other ambitions. You’re young. Your business skills would still work in a new environment. Maybe it’s something you should think about when the wedding is done.”

Abby nodded. Maybe it was. Maybe she’d been cruising for far too long.

Including into this engagement?

Not now, Abby.

“Plus, this bodes well for our working relationship, right? If I can read you this well, we don’t need to have too many of these sessions.”

“Oh no, we definitely do,” Abby said. “I don’t know you and I don’t trust my reading of situations as much as you do. Plus, your golf swing needs work. Serious work.” Abby gave Jordan a grin, then looked away for a moment, as the blood rushed to her cheeks. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she was embarrassed about her life in front of Jordan, who was so clearly put together.

Whereas Abby was doing a job she’d accepted because it afforded her the lifestyle she’d become accustomed to. Meeting someone new like Jordan shone a light on that fact. Abby had drifted very far from her childhood goals. Very far from even where she wanted to be in the previous decade when she graduated from university. Then, armed with the most prestigious degree certificate, the world was her oyster. She could have gone into charity work as she’d intended, but her head was turned by what all her friends were doing. She wanted the inflated pay cheque they were all getting. Now, she’d forgotten she ever wanted anything different.

Until Jordan turned up. With her bad golf swing. Her easy smile. Somehow, Jordan had made Abby start to question her life.

Just by asking one simple question, Jordan had pulled at a loose thread in Abby’s life she’d been ignoring for years.

Another tug, and Abby might begin to slowly unravel.

Chapter 8

“Have you sorted the bagpiper, or do you need Dad to ring his uncle?”

Abby’s mum, Gloria, sat on her red velvet sofa, eating fish and chips out of the paper they arrived in. She said they tasted much better that way.