A Year of Chasing Love. Rosie Chambers

that caused her skirt to rise further up her thighs. ‘Anyway, I had six dates with Bianca. A nun’s existence like you’ve got going on, darling, is not part of my life’s golden-paved pathway. It gets so exhausting to feign interest in someone when the initial attraction has worn off, delicious as Bianca was. Variety is the spice of life.’

      ‘Yes, you’d know! Anyway, chance would be a fine thing. There’re no decent guys around to date.’

      Pointedly, Hollie swept her eyes over her shoulder and around the wine bar. Olivia followed her concentrated beam as it encompassed the whole battalion of professionals at varying degrees of inebriation; all, without exception, pale-skinned, red-eyed, and scrawny from the long hours spent behind their desks and in front of their flashing computer screens.

      ‘Well, it’s not as though I haven’t told you, and told you again, the reasons for that, Holls.’

      Olivia sat back in her chair, smiling at her friends’ familiar bickering. She was acutely aware of Hollie’s fruitless search for ‘the one’.

      ‘You do know there’s no such thing as “Happily Ever After”, don’t you?’ Matteo continued. ‘Your dreams of fragranced bouquets and hand-made confectionery and never-ending romance, as depicted in those Mills & Boon-style romances you devour, are completely unattainable in twenty-first-century London. How can such an intelligent, accomplished woman as you read such drivel anyway, let alone believe in it? The rippling six-packs of the guys on the front covers are enough to make anyone vomit!’

      Matteo gave a theatrical shudder before becoming more serious.

      ‘Why not pursue your musical career? You were amazing when I saw you play lead clarinet for your orchestra last month. And didn’t Nathan’s brother, Dan, say that if you just practised a tad more often, you’d definitely qualify for the Ladies’ County Golf Team when they play in Dubai next year? If you stopped spending all your time frequenting those dreary corridors of the local Magistrates’ Court with those grumbling criminals panting in your fragrant slipstream, then you’d have a better chance of seeing what you’re missing out on.’

      Matteo’s upper lip curled in distaste at the people Hollie dealt with as a criminal defence advocate.

      ‘If you spent as much time chatting with any one of these guys—’ he flung his perfectly manicured hand over to a group of suits laughing uproariously at the bar ‘—as you do with those scumbags you represent, then maybe you could be as lucky as me, darling!’

      ‘Well, the words “pot”, “kettle” and “black” spring to mind, Matteo. A serial dater who shies away from the merest sniff of commitment is not in any position to …’ Hollie stopped short in her circuitous retort, obviously realising she was at the top of a slippery slope towards childish squabbling.

      For the first time, Olivia felt a smidgeon of envy for Hollie and Matteo’s easy relationship. Matteo was Elliot’s childhood best friend and therefore Hollie had known him most of her life. Ever since their carefree teens on the beaches of Cornwall, they had argued like brother and sister over steaming bowls of hand-made pasta at his parents’ pizzeria or freshly caught fish and chips at her family’s fish restaurant in Newquay. Hollie had even put her chosen career as a criminal defence lawyer down to her enduring love of a good argument with Matteo. Although he often infuriated her, sometimes purposely, Olivia knew Hollie loved sparring with him. It meant she could continue to hone her advocacy skills for her daily attendance at the City of London Magistrates’ Court.

      Olivia tuned out and sunk beneath a drape of sadness, content to listen to her friends squabble because it diverted their attention away from her own issues. Unfortunately, her sojourn of solitude didn’t last long because it seemed Hollie and Matteo were determined to include her in their conversation and bolster her spirits.

      ‘Well, I think a trip is an excellent idea, Liv,’ said Hollie, a smirk playing around her lips as she examined her apricot manicure to avoid Matteo’s indignant stare. ‘In fact, not only will your research provide valuable insight for Rachel’s research paper, but for me, too. And you, Matt. I, for one, would love to know what makes love last forever! Hey, Liv, you could use Matt’s love life as your control sample of what not to do.’

      Hollie’s eyes widened with excitement as she tossed her marmalade waves over her shoulder and scooted to the edge of the sofa, her freckled cheeks reddening at the idea that had just dinged into her brain.

      ‘In fact, I want you to send me regular bulletins from your travels. A list of “Olivia’s Lessons in Love”! The hard evidence, as you gather it on your journey around the world in the crazy pursuit of the mechanics of “True Love”. Yes! Yes! Yes! I’ll follow every missive avidly, and maybe I could even try putting some of them into practice!’

      Olivia had to laugh as Hollie bounced in her seat like Tigger’s more energetic sister, as her animation increased. She saw Matteo rolling his eyes in disgust, especially when Hollie had used the words true love, but his lukewarm reaction only served to encourage Hollie to continue outlining her master plan.

      ‘So, every time you stumble across a little gem of romantic wisdom, you have to email me, and Matteo, a sort of “lesson in love”, a “directive of desire”, a “bulletin of adoration” – whatever you want to call it.’

      ‘Bulletin of Baloney, if you ask me,’ muttered Matteo, an expression of complete incredulity written boldly across his handsome face.

      However, Hollie simply ignored him as she warmed to her theme.

      ‘Then, I’m going to diligently collate everything and come up with a personality portrait of what to look for in an ideal partner! So, Malta is your first stopover on the whistle-stop tour of everlasting love, is it? One of the lowest divorce rates in Europe, Rachel reckons? Now, whilst I don’t profess to know much about the country, I think it still boasts a culture of close-knit families, so I bet that will be the first of “Livvie Hamilton’s lessons in love”.’

      Clearly deciding that if you can’t beat them, join them, Matteo leaned forward to press the case for Olivia accompanying him on his work trip to Tuscany’s picturesque vineyards and wineries.

      ‘Italy has a similar culture of “family first”! Liv can just as easily come with me to see how we Italians maintain long-lasting and love-filled relationships. Dad was married to Mum for forty years before that cruel bastard that is breast cancer stole her from us.’

      It had been two years since Matteo had lost his mother, and he and his father, Antonio, had continued to feel the gaping chasm left by her loss every day. Antonio had been unable to continue to run their restaurant without his soulmate by his side, and he had sold up so he could return to his native Florence and be consoled in the bosom of his extended family. Matteo’s Uncle Gino, Antonio’s elder brother, had drawn him into his wine business, keeping his hands busy and his mind occupied, but Olivia knew that Matteo fretted for his father as the raw agony in his chocolate brown eyes had not diminished.

      Hollie reached over and covered Matteo’s smooth, moisturised hand with her own, keen to offer him a silent dose of sympathy.

      ‘I’m sure Olivia would love to visit your family, Matt, but she already has the airline ticket for Malta, and you’re not going to Italy until next month.’

      Then, still clutching his palm in hers, she swung her gaze back to Olivia to resume what had now become her pet theme.

      ‘I think two or three bulletins per trip should suffice. That should make around twelve by the end of your sabbatical – enough to build up a corpulent body of evidence, I’d say – then I intend to apply the criteria to every single guy I know and see what it throws up. I have high hopes for a long and happy marriage thanks to your timely research.’

      Olivia smiled at her best friend’s effervescent demeanour. The grey smudges in the hollows beneath her eyes had disappeared, or maybe that had something to do with the three champagne cocktails she’d devoured before her Piña Colada arrived.