Free Love and Liability (Dating Mr Darcy - Book 2) by Katie Oliver Page A

deliciously gorgeous. She dragged her eyes away from his photo and read the interview.
    Financial solicitor…QSRs…a few sentences dealing with dead-boring monetary stuff…and — hold on! What was
this
?
    Holly sat bolt upright, the magazine clutched in her hands.
    It couldn’t be. It couldn’t
possibly
be…
    When Alex had objected to her original Outrageous Question, Sasha let Holly email him a different question following the interview. He hadn’t much liked that one either.
    But he’d answered the question — boxers, or briefs? — in typical Alex fashion — “Boxers. Briefs are naff, as are Speedos. And I fail to see the relevance of this ridiculous question” — and that was that.
    Or so she’d thought. Yet here it was, Alex’s off-the-record, I-can-say-it-but-you-can’t-print-it comment, in all its black and white glory:
    BritTEEN
: Sex on the first date? Yes or no?
    AB
: I do approve of sex on a first date. Absolutely.
    “Oh, no,” Holly groaned. “No, no,
no
!” How was this possible? She’d submitted the article with the second question, not the first. She knew she had. Yet there it was, along with Alex’s answer, for the entire world to see!
    Where was the bit Alex said just before he threw her out, about the couple being responsible and consenting
adults
, and not ‘spotty-faced teenagers with raging hormones’? Her eyes raced over the text.
    It wasn’t in the interview. Anywhere.
    Oh, shit. Shit, shit,
shit
.
    Even worse, Alex’s remark that he might stand for MP — also off the record — had been included as well.
    How in
hell
had that happened?
    Holly thought back to that night, typing away on her laptop. She’d emailed the first draft to Sasha, and asked to make changes before it went to Valery, but Sasha hadn’t listened. Annoyed, she’d had a vodka and grapefruit to drink — well, two, actually — and then Alex had called.
    Holly racked her brain. She vaguely remembered running the interview through spell check, but the rest was a blank.
    She scrambled off the bed and pulled out her laptop. It only took a moment to confirm that the document she’d emailed to Sasha and Valery contained no off-the-record remarks.
    She frowned, perplexed. Had she sent another, second email? Her fingertips raced over the keyboard as she checked the ‘sent’ mail folder, and she froze.
    There was a second email, sent an hour after the first, to Sasha.
    She opened the email and saw, to her horror, another version of her interview…
    A version that included
all
of Alex’s comments.
    Oh, shit.
    Holly grabbed her mobile. Damage control was needed, and right away. Frantically she searched for Alex’s number. He’d called her just a few days ago…where
was
his bloody number…?
    Ah, here it was. Last Friday night, elevenish — bingo.
    After two rings, the line clicked. “Barrington here. Leave a message.”
    “Alex,” Holly blurted, “it’s Holly James. There’s been a bit of a…mix-up, and your off-the-record’s been published in
BritTEEN
. I’m terribly, horribly sorry. Call me as soon as you get this!”
    She pressed ‘End Call’ and scrolled to Sasha Davis’s number.
    “Hello,” Sasha’s cool, plummy voice intoned, “you’ve reached voicemail for Sasha Davis. Please leave a brief message.”
    “Sasha,” Holly said in rush, “there’s been a massive mistake. My interview with Alex is in the new issue…and his off-the-record comments are in there, too. Call me, please.”
    With a trembling finger she rang off. Sasha would be livid. Valery would be livid. And Alex Barrington would be the most livid of all.
    He’d never, ever forgive her for this.
    It was nearly half-past six, time to get ready for the drinks party. At the thought of getting through an interminable evening of polite chit-chat with her parents’ neighbours while her career imploded around her, Holly groaned. She could always make her excuses and leave…
    But she didn’t want to disappoint her father.