Young things in London, in Potter’s first US publication.
Juliet is bright, pretty, and disenchanted with boyfriend Will. He’s kept her waiting for eons at this bar, and she’s extremely unhappy about it. And no one ever told her that adult life would entail one second of unhappiness. Perhaps a whiny gabfest with chum Trudy will soothe her soul. Or she can text-message everyone she knows to help her through this latest crisis. Dressing up in sexy red silk embroidered with tiny flowers (don’t ask the price, darling) and attracting the attention of every bloke in the bar is small consolation for being stood up. She loathes bars. Bars serve martinis, and martinis contain olives, and even though she isn’t having a martini with or without olives, she hates olives with a passion. Nasty bitter bloody things. And just because Will is terribly involved with his new landscaping business is no reason to neglect her romantic needs. Now, he’s apparently forgotten that it’s Valentine’s Day, and she will never, ever forgive him. Not even after she gets sloppy drunk with Trudy and meets a handsome stranger in the public loo—well, she had to pee and headed into the Gents, all right? The stranger was kind enough to pass her the toilet paper, and she was not too drunk to notice that his accent was extremely posh, as in Royal Family posh! Oo! Though, as it turns out, he answers to the distinctly plebian name of Sykes, he’s the creative director of a rival ad firm, drives a jazzy, spanking-new Aston Martin and—uh-oh, Will just woke up. So who’s the GQ-gorgeous bloke in the poncey clothes sniffing around his Juliet? Will goes back to gloomy Yorkshire to sulk and Juliet jets off to sunny Italy with Sykes. He’s sophisticated, fun, has heaps of money, and showers her with expensive gifts. Most of all, he’s paying attention to her. Alas, Juliet soon realizes she’s just another notch on his Gucci belt. Sadder but wiser, she returns to England for a half-baked happy ending.
Brittle romance laced with bitchy asides.