Let's Get Serious

Let’s Get Serious

By Maureen Reil

Copyright ©2013 Maureen Reil

Updated Edition 2021

This eBook is entirely a work of fiction.

The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Maureen Reil asserts the moral right to be identified as the sole author of this work.

Also by the author Maureen Reil

Chick-Lit By Any Other Name (Chick-Lit Collection)

Chick-Lit By Any Other Name 2 (Chick-Lit Collection)

Lily Loves To Love

Sleepyhead Shares A Secret

I Hate Me, Who Do You Hate?

I Did Write What I Know

Chick-Lit Saved My Life (Chick-Lit Trilogy book 1)

Chick-Lit Stole My Life (Chick-Lit Trilogy book 2)

Chick-Lit Staged My Life (Chick-Lit Trilogy book 3)

Chick-Lit Collection

Chick-Lit Trilogy

Mistletoe And Wine (Christmas Comedy Trilogy)

Mistletoe And Wine 2 (Christmas Comedy Trilogy)

Mistletoe And Wine 3 (Christmas Comedy Trilogy)

Christmas Comedy Trilogy

Let’s Get Married (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get Together (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get It Started (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get Ready To Rumble (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

Let’s Get Physical (Let’s Get Funny Fiction)

The Finch Family Short Break (Comical Vacations Book 0)

The Finch Family Holiday 1 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Holiday 2 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Holiday 3 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Holiday 4 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Holiday 5 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Easter Holiday 6 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Bank Holiday 7 (Comical Vacations)

The Finch Family Christmas Holiday 8 (Comical Vacations)

A Granny Is For Life, Not Just Christmas

Let’s Get Funny Fiction 1 (Three-Book Bundle)

Let’s Get Funny Fiction 2 (Three-Book Bundle)

Let’s Get Funny Fiction (Six-Book Box Set)

Comical Vacations 1 (Three-Book Bundle)

Comical Vacations 2 (Three-Book Bundle)

Comical Vacations 3 (Three-Book Bundle)

Christmas Crackers

Wed To The Wrong Wayne

The Desperate Dater’s Intervention

It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

Things Can Only Get Better

Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas

Luck Had Nothing To Do With It

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Dedicated to

HRH

Prince George of Cambridge

One

Four words that will either, start a fire or melt the hearts of most women belong to the provocative question that is. Will you marry me? Ultimately, I was sadly one of the former kinds and it strikes me down with fear simply thinking about it, never mind waiting around for him to ask me. I know it is coming but not when, because my younger sister Lottie has just told me even though my boyfriend Perry made her swear to secrecy but she is obviously more loyal to me than he is. Besides, Lottie (who is three years my junior and three stone lighter than I am) knows my secret so she decided that my sister wanted to warn me upfront about the big surprise headed my way. Indeed Lottie only found out when Perry took her to the jewellers to get some advice on what type of ring to choose for me, seeing as she knows me best and since she really does know me best of all the people that I know. She knows damn well that I cannot possibly marry Perry Marlow no matter how much I love him before I get divorced from my first husband called Brady Shaw, which unfortunately Perry knows nothing about. Talk about a fine mess I have gotten myself into as of late.

‘How am I going to avoid this? He is bound to corner me at some point. I should be looking forward to being proposed to, not dreading it,’ I moaned to Lottie as she was putting the finishing touches to my makeup in the dressing room of studio block A, before I present my slot on the early morning show called ‘Wakeup With Winston’ in which I appear as a celebrity reporter/gossip monger.

I’ve also been known on occasion to cover for the hostess and double up with the host in order to front the programme, when his wife is a tad ‘under the weather’ shall we say and that’s bullshit for being too high to speak properly without slurring her words, never mind read from the autocue. I don’t think she’s handling being in her late 40’s and knocking on 50’s door and growing old before her viewers eyes very well, whilst her younger husband by seven years looks better than he did when they got together. It is as if he is aging in reverse by the looks of things. And it’s surprising what a makeover and a spot of Botox can do, if you’ve got the goods to work with in the first place I suppose and you keep yourself fighting fit like he has over the troubled journey of their ongoing work combined with marriage setup.

Maggie Winston has been in the business of presenting programmes for over twenty-five years. In that time she has become something of a national treasure (that frankly, should have been buried a long time ago if you ask me) as I crave to have her job full-time so I am completely biased when I think that I should replace her permanently. Her drug habits to quell her anxiety have become quite legendary around here, but everyone ‘is sworn’ to keep it out of the press if they want to keep their jobs. As her co-host and husband called, Neville Winston tries his best to keep his wife on track and hide those trembling fingers of hers from their viewers, whilst people think that he is simply being affectionate when he holds her hands a lot. Lottie by the way is my trusted and talented makeup artist; stylist and hairdresser all rolled into one neat package of blonde loveliness and of course, my best friend and sister too.

‘You should count your blessings that someone wants to marry you. Most women your age have either given up or are panicking that it will never happen for them. As they hear their biological clock ticking louder and louder until it’s deafening with each passing day that they go without love in their lives,’ said Lottie, like she was speaking from experience. Only she is all loved-up with her husband Jimmy, who works on this show as a camera operator.

‘Jeez you make me sound ancient; I’m only thirty-two and I don’t want kids yet anyway. So what’s the rush?’

‘You don’t want to end up like Maggie, burnt out and climbing up the pill mountain whilst trying to stave off the inevitable fall in this cruel and unforgiving business.’

‘Maggie will probably outlive us all in terms of TV airtime and she’ll still be presenting something come her elderly years . . . like Joan Rivers, only not as witty and made of plastic,’ I mused because I love Joan Rivers on that fashion show, so long may she reign as Queen of US TV.

‘Ha, I recall that when we were little you thought plastic surgery meant that they actually cut your skin off and replaced it with plastic, remember?’ asked Lottie.

‘Well judging by some people I’ve seen afterwards then I could have been right in some cases. I just told you that to scare you, so you would never get it done and look better than I look. But now I realise that you simply need plastic to be able to afford it, because who carries that kind of cash around with them in their saggy arse pocket.’

‘Huh, would you want to put up with Maggie’s life? Everyone knows around here that her husband is cheating on her with that young researcher. Before that affair, it was the receptionist. Still, the showbiz pair does their best to keep up appearances to the outside world and portray themselves as a loving couple in the media. All because they have to since everyone sees them a double act and not as individual presenters. They have even named the show after them so if they split up, they will probably never work again.’

‘God, you’re making me feel sorry for her.’

‘You should . . . after her sacrifice. When she put her career before having babies and now it’s too late,’ warns Lottie. Like she’s reading into my future through my tea leaves that are in the bottom of my teacup (as it happens, the teabag split and I always use the one with my name on so nobody else uses it but I suspect that they do since I don’t wear a peachy pink lipstick and my sister does). I’d spat the mouthful of loose leaves I got unexpectedly on draining my drink back into the china mug and now Lottie thinks she’s got the gift or something.

‘Thanks for the lecture, sis. But I suppose I can always pay you to become a surrogate and have my baby for me if I’m ever that desperate to become a single mother, but I doubt it.’

‘Err, you couldn’t pay me enough. But I think you’ll change your mind when you marry Perry,’ she replied with confidence and I looked inside that cup to see if it told me how many kids it predicted. Only I just saw a mess and nothing more, so the signs were not clear unless you are talking mud since that is what it looked like to me.

‘Who says I’m going to accept his proposal? I do love him yes but I don’t know if I’m ready for marriage, again.’

‘Now listen to me, Faye Allen . . . you will do the decent thing and just tell Perry about Brady Shaw. It is not as if you are cheating on the dude, so what have you to be afraid of here? Who cares if you’ve been married before . . . plenty of people have?’ she replied and shrugged her shoulders as if to make me relax and not get so worked up about things being beyond my control, or I’ll fluff my lines at this rate.

‘I know that, but most people get divorced before they take on a new love and contemplate walking down the aisle with someone else.’

‘Christ, you make it sound like Perry is unaware that you were not a virgin when you guys hooked up,’ said Lottie and picked up a bacon bagel to munch on whilst offering me a bite of it and that’s all I need, greasy chops live on air.

‘Hardly, he knows and appreciates that I’ve been around the block and that’s why we have a great sex life, because I’m more experienced than he is. But Perry doesn’t believe in divorce and I will have to get one from Brady Shaw in order to marry him.’

‘I never did understand why you haven’t divorced Brady yet . . . it’s been five long years since you’ve seen each other,’ said Lottie and those bacon bagels with soft cheese are just too tempting not to take a second bite of so sod it, she’ll have to do her job and fix my lippy for me.

‘I know it’s about time we did. But Brady and I both agreed that we would only separate and if neither of us found love with someone else after five years, then we would try again one day to patch things up between us.’

‘Yeah, you two were good together for quite a while back there and it’s a shame that you split-up . . . but if you hadn’t then you wouldn’t be with Perry now. So look on the bright side and everything happens for a reason,’ said Lottie and finished off her bagel before my hair, but she had better remember to wash her greasy mitts first.

‘You know long distance relationships never work out.’

‘Stop over thinking it and stop eating my breakfast, you have already had yours. Just be prepared to be honest with them both. I’m sure, it’ll be fine,’ insisted Lottie. Whilst removing the protective tissue paper from around the collar of my cream blouse, which prevents any makeup stains being on camera. For our viewers will then often contact me about it as if I did not notice that spot like last time and the one before this and damn HD TV but it shows up every bloody blemish, be it face or food related.

‘Teeth,’ I said and showed her my full set.

‘Check,’ she replied, having inspected for cleanliness.

‘Spray,’ I ordered her to freshen up my breath for me.

‘Check,’ she replies, pushing not once but twice on the dispenser top to dispel the minty liquid into my mouth in a bid to remove any trace evidence of what I ate.

‘Squirt,’ I demand as she reaches for my light, fruity scent bottle of perfume from the dressing tabletop.

‘Check,’ replies Lottie and dowses me in a mist of my favourite scent to walk through so that I do not smell as if I have been working down the butty van in my spare time.

‘Right, thank you very much and I’m good to go,’ I said as I opened up the door that the floor manager had just knocked on to let me know that I was required on the set.

Lottie had stayed behind in the dressing room to finish off her breakfast in peace and no wonder I am the size I am, when I cannot resist having an extra portion to add to my calorie intake. Being a size 16 (UK) well I am representing the average woman and that makes me relatable and not, too dissimilar from my viewers sitting at home and watching me struggle with weight issues and clothes that do not fit properly. It is a good job; they do not force me to lose weight or go on silly fad diets and do strenuous exercise regimes just to look like everybody else on telly. Unlike a lot of my other female counterparts in the industry who have to sadly adhere to a certain type in terms of what is acceptable by some such producers and luckily for me, mine were swayed by what their viewers thought and they thought that I was fine and dandy just the way I am. As I get to eat what I like, whilst not worrying about the pounds too much. I have a man that loves me and does not want to change me either, so you could say that I have the perfect life. In many respects I do, so I should not complain but is it about to come crashing down around my ears.

Oh crap, I spot Perry lurking behind camera one and he has spotted me too so he heads my way. I thought I had all day to think of some way to avoid his proposal. For I would make up an excuse not to go to the theatre tonight because let us face it, he’s bound to go all traditional on my ass and do it in a fancy restaurant afterwards. In that case I wouldn’t be able to eat out in public for the rest of my life. Mind you that would solve the problem. Let me explain how Perry got on the floor during a ‘live’ closed set where it’s only people who work on the show and guests that are usually allowed, for we do have a limited floor space in this smallish studio by some standards and