Cupcakes at Carrington’s
The first book in the hugely popular Carrington’s series from the No.1 bestselling author of The Great Christmas Knit-Off and The Secret of Orchard Cottage.Georgie Hart loves her job – running the luxury handbag concession at Carrington's Department store in the pretty seaside town of Mulberry-on-Sea, and treating herself (once too often!) to a red velvet cupcake with buttercream icing in Carrington's café.But Georgie is thrown into disarray when Carrington's is plunged into a recession-busting makeover, cueing the arrival of femme fatale Maxine, who wields the axe in her immaculately-manicured hands.It spells a recipe for disaster for Georgie and soon she is fighting not only for her job, but also for the attentions of her gorgeous boss, James. And when hot newcomer Tom arrives, who may or may not be the best thing since sliced bread, Georgie must decide where her loyalties really lie…
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ALEXANDRA BROWN
Cupcakes at Carrington’s
Copyright
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers
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Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk
Copyright © Alexandra Brown 2013
Alexandra Brown asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9780007488230
Ebook Edition © January 2013 ISBN: 9780007488247
Version: 2014-09-23
For Paul and QT
Table of Contents
1
It’s Tuesday morning in Mulberry-On-Sea, and Eddie is glaring with disapproval at my New Look heels as I step inside the staff lift and close the metal concertina cage door.
‘You know I just saw Sam outside. That cupcake queen totally blanked me,’ he says, preening into the mottled mirror on the lift wall.
‘Oh you know Sam. She probably had her mind on other things like giant macaroon mountains or gold glitter sprinkles.’ The mention of Sam highlights my rumbling stomach so I make a mental note to pop up to her café on the fifth floor, Cupcakes at Carrington’s, for a red velvet cupcake with butter cream icing. My favourite. Mm-mmm. And a good catch-up on all the gossip of course. Sam overhears all kinds of stuff. When Cynthia from the florist down on Sunray Crescent was having it away with Trevor, the town sheriff, she was the first to know. Trevor’s sister is a regular in the café and blabs all the juicy details to her mate over a cream horn and a steamy hot chocolate. ‘I take it you had a good weekend?’ I add, glancing at Eddie in the mirror as I bouf up my shoulder-length brunette bob. Last night, I used those giant sleep-in rollers, but after getting caught in a sudden downpour on my way to work, it now looks more floppy spaniel ears than big hair fabulous.
‘Yes, so-so … went to an impromptu Sex and the City themed party on Sunday,’ he replies, in his best diva voice.
‘And let me guess, you were channelling your inner Samantha?’ I laugh, shaking my head. Eddie adores her character.
‘Of course.’ He waves an imperious hand in the air before turning towards me. ‘And I’m so glad I took Monday off. The pornstar cocktails were divine, but there’s a limit, even for me,’ he says, clutching the side of his head.
‘Never mind the pornstars, tell me about the men.’ I’m keen to hear about another one of his scandalous weekends, if only to take my mind off the one I spent alone.
‘Oh, wall-to-wall Carries of course,’ he sniffs.
‘Aaand …?’ I smile, fishing for more information.
‘Aaand what?’
‘You know … your “Smith” – was he there too? Come on, tell all, you know you want to.’ I give him a playful nudge of encouragement. He hesitates.
‘Nope.’ He looks away. ‘But it’ll be Valentine’s Day in six weeks or so. And … well, if he doesn’t want to spend it with me then it’s his loss,’ he adds with a flourish, before pulling a face.
‘I thought you two were totally loved-up?’ I say, steering the conversation away from the most romantic day of the year. It’s not that I don’t like being single. I do. Sometimes. And I’m only twenty-seven. But Valentine’s Day can be tricky. Especially when everyone else is bound to be whooping it up with ten-course taster menus followed by cosy strolls along the seafront under velvety moonlit skies, and I’m home alone with a bar of chocolate to keep me company. And unless my love life takes a serious upturn – I’ll be doing the same again this year. I think of the last Valentine’s Day I spent with Brett nearly two years ago, it was our third together. I’d felt happy and loved-up, blissfully unaware that I was going to be dumped within a few weeks. He left me for someone else – a tall blonde with big hair and a sylph-like figure compared to my average height and bootylicious curves, as Brett used to say. My heart constricts a little, but I’m over him. I force myself to concentrate on Eddie’s love life instead.
