Free Styling Wellywood: A fashionable romantic comedy (Wellywood Series Book 2) by Kate O'Keeffe Page B

it up, and being British she can live there the rest of her life if she so wishes. Unlike me. She’s bright and supermodel beautiful.
    He hesitates briefly. “Yeah, she was here in May. Not sure she liked Wellington much though.”
    “ I can understand that. After London it’s a bit of a shock.”
    “ You’ll learn to love it, Jess. It might not have the excitement of London, but it’s got its own thing going on. Just give it a chance.”
    We stay at the bar for another few drinks and have lots of fun catching up on all our news and laughing about good times in London.
    Eventually I catch a cab home feeling slightly squiffy and happy to have such a good old buddy back here in the wilds of Wellington.

7. Shenanigans in the Sports Closet
     
     
    I wake up the following morning feeling slightly muzzy in the head, thanks to the unnecessarily large number of mojitos I downed with Ben last night. I’m happy I’ve managed to sleep until seven. I must be kicking the jetlag, which is great, as I really have to be on my game now we’re getting more Estil clients.
    Time to get on with the website. Morgan had texted me the details of the appointment at three today as well as another client for Monday, so things have really started rolling, which is fantastic.
    I shiver and notice it’s raining and blowing a gale outside and the temperature seems to have dropped ten degrees since yesterday.
    “ It’s a southerly,” Mum informs me thoughtfully, as I wander into the kitchen to make tea and toast.
    “ Winds of up to one hundred and ten kilometres per hour expected today with a high of just nine degrees, dear. Less with the wind chill, so wrap up warmly.”
    “ So much for Cardio Tennis,” I reply dejectedly.
    Guess I’ll need to put off the pleasure of flirting with Scott the Sex God for another day. Besides, my body is definitely feeling yesterday’s session this morning and I’m starting to get feel guilty about the lack of work I’ve put into the website since my flight home.
    “ I’d check with the club if I were you, Jessie dear. They have indoor courts too, you know. Perhaps it’s on one of those when it rains.”
    I perk up significantly at this prospect, decide to call the club to check, and learn my wonderful mother is indeed correct. My body pains and muzzy head are miraculously forgotten at the thought of seeing Scott again. Amazing how that happens, isn’t it? Someone should work out the chemical processes involved and bottle it - they’d make a fortune.
    I decide to get onto the website later, reasoning the exercise will help clear my head. I know, a flimsy excuse, but I’m only human, OK?
    Mum offers to lend me the car again, as long as I drop her off on the way at a sale at the city’s premier department store, Kirckaldie and Stains. It’s a small price to pay for vehicular freedom in a city devoid of a subway, so I happily agree.
    As we drive along Lambton Quay , Wellington’s main shopping street, Mum asks, “Don’t you think it’d be a good idea to go and see the Whitmans, darling? I’m sure they’d love to see you again after all this time. It must be so hard for them.”
    Cindy and Todd Whitman are Lindsay’s parents. They live in a large house in Roseneath, the most expensive suburb in Wellington bar none.
    “ I will, Mum, but I’m pretty busy right now.” I know it’s the right thing to do, but I don’t need to rush it. “I have my new business to run, which really is the most important thing in my life right now.”
    And there’ s the small matter of a certain tennis coach I keep thinking about. A woman has to prioritise, you know.
    “ Well, you know best, darling. Just here will be fine.”
    I pull the car over to the kerb and she kisses me on the cheek as she opens the door. “See you tonight,” Mum says cheerily. She pauses. “Oh, and there’s something I need to talk to you about, dear.”
    “ Oh?” I ask, feeling a little concerned.
    I’ve found in my