Daisy James - Lucie’s Vintage Cupcake Company

‘Sofia…’

‘All I’m saying is maybe you should talk to Alex before you rush into anything.’

Lucie rolled her eyes. She’d been listening to various versions of the same sermon for the last eight weeks, ever since she’d announced her intention to propose to Alex.

‘Why not wait until Alex asks you to marry him?’

‘Because, in case you hadn’t noticed, I adore Alex and he adores me. And we’ve been together for ever. I’m fed up of waiting. We’re just plodding along – everything’s become so comfortable, so predictable – and unless I take the initiative I can see us in five, maybe even ten years’ time, still meandering arm-in-arm down life’s highway with no real destination in sight. I want to inject some zing into our relationship – and this is the perfect way to do it!’

The trattoria’s indomitable manager flicked the sides of her short chestnut bob behind her ears. Tall and willowy, especially in her work stilettos, Sofia possessed the stature of a mannequin. If she ever had the need for a second income she would be snapped up by a modelling agency straightaway, but she relished playing the lead female role in her own restaurant drama – well, until the eponymous Francesca Santini, the restaurant’s owner and all-round gastronomic ogre, arrived to stamp on her toes. She opened her mouth again to continue with her soliloquy of caution, but Lucie didn’t have the time or the inclination to listen to a repeat performance, however well meaning.

‘Don’t worry, Sofia. I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be perfect. The store manager has even agreed to play our song at exactly eight p.m. so it will be on in the background as I make my declaration of true love. I’m so excited I could skip naked along the rooftops.’

It was Sofia’s turn to roll her eyes in frustration.

‘Oh, come on, Sofia,’ said Antonio, appearing from the kitchen to sling his arm around Sofia’s neck. ‘Even you have to admit what Lucie’s got planned is romantic! Just because you’re married to your career doesn’t mean you can deny Lucie a little romance in her life.’

‘A little romance? The scene of this forthcoming proposal wouldn’t be out of place in a lavish Hollywood rom-com production. She’s booked Tiffany’s, for God’s sake! Please, Lucie. I know you think I’m being a killjoy. If you have truly found your soulmate, then I’m happy for you. Alex is a great guy. He’s handsome, funny, a talented corporate lawyer and one of the most passionate Chelsea supporters I’ve ever had the pleasure to be acquainted with. I understand that you’ve been dating for ages but you know he’s focusing on his career at the moment, wants to make partner before he’s thirty. Why not wait until his partnership is confirmed at the board meeting in April and have a dual celebration?’

Lucie smiled. Alex often dropped into the conversation his goal of gaining a partnership at Carter & Mayhew by the time he reached his milestone birthday. She’d nod her reassurance that she had no doubt he would achieve his ambition, before adding her own dream of being at the helm of her own restaurant or running her own catering business. He’d usually pat her arm indulgently whenever she said this, fluff up her curls and tell her they should be working on squeezing out every ounce of enjoyment their lifestyle in the capital afforded them.

‘You’re a good friend, Sofia, and I cherish your support and advice. But I love Alex. I want to marry him whether he’s a partner at Carter & Mayhew or not. It doesn’t matter to me whether he’s a top corporate lawyer or a lowly legal clerk. All I know is that we are destined to be together. So why shouldn’t I propose? This is the twenty-first century you know!’

Lucie checked her watch. She didn’t want to be late. She had even booked a taxi to take her over to Sloane Street where the most fabulous store in London awaited her arrival. Excitement bubbled through her veins and she shivered with exhilaration at the thought that, in less than an hour’s time, she would be an engaged woman.

‘I wish you’d let us come along to witness the proposal of the decade,’ lamented Antonio with a glint of mischief in his espresso eyes. ‘We could take a few photos, record the perfect moment on our phones so you can play it all back for your grandchildren.’

She smiled at him as she straightened the scarlet belted dress she’d splashed out on for the occasion. She had completed her outfit with a pair of Louboutins Sofia had loaned her, which her friend usually housed in a specially purchased glass case like a prized museum artefact in her bedroom. She had so many pairs of gorgeous stilettos, Lucie was surprised she didn’t sell tickets to a gallery viewing. However, the shoes were performing their designated role perfectly and delivered a whoosh of much-needed confidence. She scrabbled around in the dark depths of her handbag and produced a comb to tease a couple of recalcitrant curls back into place and finished off with a spritz of hairspray.

‘Okay, here’s my cab. How do I look?’

‘Stunning, cara mia . I’d marry you!’ smirked Antonio. ‘Now, off you go and enjoy every moment. Take no notice of Miss Sceptical over there. She’s just jealous that she has no time to date, unless you include her suspiciously close relationship with her iPhone. Is there a male version of Siri?’

She hooked her handbag over her shoulder, pushed open the heavy glass door and stepped out onto the glistening pavement. She briefly wondered if the sudden downpour was an omen, but discarded the thought. It was late February – she could hardly expect the sun to be cracking the flagstones.

She checked her watch again. Thirty minutes and she’d be a fiancée. As the cab laced its way through the rain-splattered London streets to Sloane Street, the wipers flicking away the onslaught of water droplets, her thoughts meandered to the black onyx signet ring waiting patiently in its little turquoise box at Tiffany’s to make its debut into the world.

She had been planning the big proposal since the first of January – eight weeks ago. If she was entirely honest with herself – and Sofia and Antonio made sure of that – she’d thought Alex might have proposed to her on New Year’s Eve at his boss’s party in Pimlico. It had been an elegant affair – not the usual New Year’s bash she was used to, which involved copious amounts of alcohol, loud and boisterous singing and wild dancing. Greg Parker was a partner at Carter & Mayhew and someone Alex was desperate to emulate. He had everything Alex aspired to achieve – the partnership, the professional respect of his peers as a corporate tax lawyer, a glamourous wife, a beautiful, if somewhat soulless, home, and the pièce de résistance as far as Alex was concerned, the vintage MGB GT. But Alex hadn’t produced the coveted ring.

Then there had been a moment on Valentine’s Day when she’d thought Alex was preparing to go down on one knee, but he’d just been collecting his napkin from under the table. She had crushed her disappointment and only briefly mourned the opportunity missed. She loved living with Alex but being his wife would be the icing on the cake. She had lots of plans afoot for their life together, which began with the imminent proposal. A tickle of nerves mingled with a thrill of anticipation in her empty stomach, but her overwhelming emotion was one of excitement and certainty that, despite Sofia’s counsel, she was doing the right thing. She could envisage her future stretched out before her, clear and arrow-straight.

Of course, Sofia and Antonio – and her best friends Steph and Hollie – knew every tiny detail of her intended proposal. But she had also taken Yolande Parker, Alex’s boss’s wife, into her confidence. Yolande had been happy to organise things so that, after work, instead of Greg and Alex going straight to their preferred watering hole for the pre-weekend moan about the various fortunes of their football teams, Greg would ensure they left the office at a reasonable time and guide Alex as innocently as possible to the jewellery store. Alex did not have the tiniest inkling of what was about to happen. It was going to be a total surprise, she knew it.