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A Midnight Kiss to Seal the Deal
by Sophie Pembroke
CHAPTER ONE
CELESTE HUNTER GRIPPED the phone in her hand a little tighter and whispered the words she’d never thought she’d say into it.
‘What if I’m not good enough?’
On the other end of the line her agent, Richard, laughed. ‘I don’t believe it. Are you actually nervous?’
Celeste scowled, even though he obviously couldn’t see her. ‘Isn’t that a perfectly natural response to appearing on television for the first time?’
‘I didn’t think you had natural responses, darling.’ Richard sighed. She could just picture him shaking his head, his hand already hovering over his computer mouse as he moved on to more important things.
‘I am human, you realise.’
‘You’re basically a walking encyclopaedia. Or history textbook, I guess.’ She could hear his dismissive shrug. ‘You’re on a quiz show that is quite literally called the Christmas Cracker Cranium Quiz. I hardly think any of the questions are likely to stump you.’
‘You’re right.’ Celeste knew she was intelligent. She’d had an excellent education and had a phenomenal memory for detail. Those were the things that had taken her as far as she’d gone in her academic career so far. She was a great historian.
That wasn’t the part she was worried about.
‘You’re thinking about the new show,’ Richard guessed, correctly.
‘Possible new show,’ she corrected him. The TV show they’d pitched for was very much still at the discussions stage, and Celeste just knew that the production company would be watching her appearance on the quiz to decide if she really had what it took to front a history show by herself. ‘No counting chickens, remember?’
‘Where does that saying come from, anyway?’
‘Aesop,’ Celeste answered absently.
‘See! You know everything!’ Richard yelled gleefully. ‘Now stop worrying. I have to go deal with an actress with a secret lovechild with a politician. That’s real problems.’
Celeste laughed. ‘Good luck with that.’
‘And you break a leg on that show, you hear me?’ He paused, just for a second. ‘But not literally. You know that, right? It’s just a saying. Like the chickens.’
‘I know that.’ Poor Richard. He still hadn’t quite adjusted to having an academic for a client, rather than actresses and pop stars. She’d never been entirely sure what had made him take her on in the first place—she didn’t think he was, either. Curiosity, maybe. Or boredom.
Whatever, it seemed to be working out so far.