Janet Jackson Superhost (YORKSHIRE B&B #2) by Becky Papworth EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Becky Papworth
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Miles the Dentist
Miles is my boss at the dental practice called Valley Dental, where I work
as a receptionist. He’s mid-divorce and this is his first Christmas and New
Year away from the family. Poor Miles. He was looking really depressed in
the run-up to the holiday period, mooching around reception in between
patients, dropping hints about how he was going to be all alone at
Christmas for the first time in his life. After he welled up, talking about
when his girls were little and begging a tissue off me, followed by a ‘Is the
cottage available, Janet?’ I fell soft and agreed to let him stay there for
Christmas week. I’d no one else booked in – and what could possibly go
wrong?
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Here’s the answer.
We’re three weeks into January and he’s still here! The baubles are all
wrapped up and back in the old biscuit tin gathering spider webs up in the
attic along with the wonky pine-cone wreath. Oh, and the four-foot
cardboard Grinch that Mitzi turned up with on Christmas Eve, declaring
tipsily, ‘Christmas is a commercial capitalist invention and so on principle
I’ve decided not to partake in the exchange of Christmas presents this year.’
‘Tight arse,’ is how my seventeen-year-old daughter Chloe responded to
that. She then crawled under the Christmas tree to retrieve and unwrap the
bottle of expensive perfume she’d purchased for her aunt, replacing it with
a crumbly lime-coloured bath bomb that she’d bought months ago.
‘She can have the giant bogey instead.’
Eurgh. Sometimes my sister is her own worst enemy. She’s so clever
too, with a degree and everything, but it doesn’t translate to thinking things
through. I suppose on reflection there’s always a bit too much booze
involved. She’s rarely without a tipple, and any destructive self-centredness
is beefed up with the stuff. My own weakness is food: cake, bread, pies,
puddings, biscuits and pastry – although I do have a theory that baking only
increases your judgement, thanks to all that stirring and relaxing and
planning and taking one’s time to savour things.
I think my enjoyment of food might also have caused this issue with
Miles: I’ve turned him with my dedication to cooking. He loves my onion
and rosemary gravy. Take last Sunday. I was desperately trying not to notice
that Miles (who, let’s not forget, is a well-brought-up, frankly quite posh
bloke with dental qualifications and his own practice) had his face on the
dinner plate and was licking up the last dregs of gravy from it. Even Mitzi’s
current beau Carl, tattooed to the max, a rough-as-they-come builder with
hands like shovels, was looking on agog.
Chloe pulled a disgusted face at me and stood up from the table
deliberately slowly, scraping her chair for maximum drama, saying, ‘Er . . .
try and leave some pattern on the plate, Miles.’
This did seem to stir my boss out of his hypnotic slurp.
‘Ha, yes. I will. Sorry. Blame your mother, Chloe, for her gravy of the
gods. I could die happy, drowning in a bowl of that.’
‘Well, hurry up and get on with the drowning bit as we need the cottage
next week. Carl’s family are coming.’
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