Aria

or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either

pins and needles

ide because the thought of having to dig them out made him feel almost as if he’d

But first, the books.

You’re firing me? Seriously?’
Emily slumped back in the chair and folded her arms.
‘I wouldn’t say firing, exactly.’ He pressed his hands together in a prayer-like pose under his chin and fixed her with a steely gaze. ‘With regret, I am making you redundant.’
‘With regret? That’s what Lord Sugar always says in The Apprentice, when he fires people.’
‘It isn’t personal. We’re having to let a few people go.’
She stood up. ‘How? How can this not be personal?’
‘Do you think you could keep your voice down a little, please? We don’t want everyone to hear now, do we?’ He stood up too and walked past her to the windows that separated his private office from the rest of the open-plan area. She turned to watch as he closed the venetian blinds, obliterating the view of Annie from Accounts who was staring, open-mouthed. Annie would probably put a glass to the wall if she thought she could get away with it. Not that you needed a glass with these walls; they were paper-thin.
He turned back to Emily, put a hand on

It doesn’t matter anymore; what matters is that Hannah loves me enough to want to marry me, and how could I say no to that?

Forget how you feel,’ she said. ‘Forget what other people think. Pretend you are an actress on the stage. Speak with confidence, do not care how your words land and they will land well. People are mostly thinking of themselves. Decide who you want to be, who you want to show the world, and be that person. You can be anybody, my Violet. You have the power to present yourself to the world exactly how you wish to be seen.’

What Happened to Us?

The Place We Call Home

her eyes fought hard to pick out familiar city shapes. Usually, along here, she would gaze up towards Montmarte. Even after all these years, it took her breath away,

an addiction, the same as all the others. Just less honest, perhaps.