Read Remind Me Again Why I Need a Man for Free Online Page B

making a show of me. But I didn’t care. A gorgeous guy just asked me to dance.
    Me
.
    The others could have mooned at us and I’d barely have noticed.
    He was way over six feet tall, well built, with twinkly blue eyes and floppy light brown hair. Miles better looking than Richard Gere any day.
    â€˜I’m Greg Taylor,’ he said, holding me so tight, my tummy did somersaults.
    Three Malibu and Cokes, one more slow set and about fifteen snogs later, he had officially become my first proper boyfriend.
    First guy I fancied who actually fancied me back.
    First love.
    First broken heart.
    And now, after all these years, somehow I’d have to contact him again.

Chapter Three
Mr Wrong, the First
    Brunch on the first Saturday of every month is something of a sacrosanct tradition for the Lovely Girls by now. In fact, nothing short of one of us being terminally ill and on life support would be considered an acceptable excuse for getting out of it. But then Jamie has always been a bit of a Houdini when it comes to wriggling out of long-standing commitments.
    â€˜I’m soooooo sorry to let you down,’ he trills down my mobile phone as I scour the car park for a space, ‘but my agent has set up a meeting for me with a theatre director who’s so hot at the minute he’s practically smoking. Every actor in town is sawing a limb off just to get to
meet
this guy, so you can just imagine how I feel.’
    â€˜How?’
    â€˜Like Santa Claus finally got my letter, sweetie. Remember that all-male production of
Romeo and Juliet
that won about twenty-five Olivier awards? Same guy. José Miguel Fernandez. From Catalonia. Very, very sexy. Hot to trot.’
    â€˜So he’s gay, then?’
    â€˜Bent as the Soviet sickle, darling. If he was played by a Hollywood actor it would have to be … Antonio Banderas. And you know how much I
adore
those Latino types. So you see my dilemma, baby.’
    â€˜Well, no actually, I don’t,’ I reply firmly, mobile clamped to my ear as I try to squeeze into a parking space the size of a fruit pastille. ‘Jamie, you
hate
the theatre. You said it’s a dying art form, and that the only reason you go at all is because occasionally you like to watch the corpse decompose.’
    â€˜I know, I know. Theatre’s really just there so that the ugly actors have someplace to work. But this director is just soooo cute and it’s been so long since I had sex that I’m starting to wonder if it’s any different now.’
    â€˜You’ve barely been single for two weeks.’
    â€˜For a gay man, that’s an eternity. We’re a completely different species to you. Just think of us as a parallel universe.’
    There’s a slight pranging noise as I inadvertently tap off the bumper of the car in front.
    â€˜Are you parking, Miss Magoo?’ (This is my nickname, as I’m both short-sighted and an atrocious driver to boot.)
    â€˜Yup. I have a brunch to go to. I would never dream of letting my friends down. Not even if Colin Farrell begged me to have naked brunch with him instead.’
    â€˜You’re such a doll; I know you’ll break it gently tothe others why I can’t be there. And I know that you’ll cope with their devastation at not seeing me. I am, after all, the nucleus around which you all revolve. It’s quite a responsibility.’
    â€˜And as modest as a postulant,’ I sigh wearily. Jamie’s made up his mind to cancel and that’s all there is to it. ‘OK then, you win. I’ll do your dirty work for you and pass on the message that some cute guy is more important to you than the Lovely Girls. But God help you when you speak to them next.’
    â€˜You are an angel from on high. Men have gone to heaven for less.’
    â€˜And by the way, I hope you get a dose of the DDs for letting us down.’
    â€˜What’s that?’
    â€˜Double diarrhoea.’
    â€˜Too