'Dave was just drop-dead gorgeous, like a hunk off a TV ad...and he was trying his best to get me into bed'

• HELLO again, and welcome to the second and final extract of my bestselling novel Champagne Babes.
• Last week my heroine Eva Valentine was being propositioned at a sex party in Paris - this week she's back to reality (being a demented and unloved housewife and mother) who's slowly losing her marbles.
• That is, until she's paid a surprise visit by a hunky workman by the name of Dave, who seriously spices up her day. Now read on...

"Maddie was standing at my front door with a cheerful, yet dribbly-nosed Woody on her shoulders and a heavylooking baby bag in her hands. "I've decided to throw you a baby shower."

"Here grab that first," she said shoving Woody's stuff in my face, nappies spilling out all over the hall floor. "We can't stop long as my mam is taking him this afternoon and night so that means I get to go out and play."

"With who?" Now that I was housebound again, I couldn't help but be a little jealous.

"Never you mind young lady..." She swished past me wrestling Woody off her shoulders, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Curious as to her secret date, I slammed the door shut and hurried in behind her as quick as I could. My back had been playing up again, so the term hurried should probably be replaced with hobbled.

"Is it with anyone I might know?" I asked curiously.

"Maybe, maybe not?"

"Ah, Maddie, tell me, I need a distraction, some romance, Michael is being a pig and I'm going barking mad hanging around here all day. Cheer me up, please."

'Really, what's up with Michael? Is he acting strange?'

"Forget about Michael, I don't want to talk about him, let's talk about you and how fabulous it is to be a sexy, single gal out on the town. Do you really have a date? Or are you hooking up with one of your booty calls?"

"It's a date if you must know. He's tall, dark and handsome and a really nice guy."

"Sounds promising, when did you meet him?"

"Oh, ages ago, but I've only just seen him in a romantic way recently."

"Does he have a name?"

"No, not yet... but I'll keep you posted. Listen, I wanna do a baby shower afternoon for ya."

"Are you not supposed to do that before the baby is born so you can score loads of free pressies and then you don't have to buy them yourself?"

"There's no written rule that you can't do it after. I want to do something nice for you. You deserve it.'

"OK.What do I have to do?" 'Nothing, except make a list of names of who you'd like to invite to the party. I'll do the rest... the food,
Champagne; I might even get a couple of the boys from the agency to work as naked waiters for a couple of hours, just as a little eye candy."

"I heard of naked chef's but naked waiters? Is that not a little much for a kiddie party?"

"They'll only be naked from the waist up. Trust me, they're all the rage. Now get writing up your list. Between us we must know at least thirty horny bored mammies."

"I'm not sure if I'm really in the mood for entertaining a whole lot of estrogen."

"Ah, shut up. The male models are pumped with steroids they'll more than make up the balance. Hey, I'll even pay them a little extra so they'll flirt with you..."

"Cheers hon, you think that I'm that unattractive that you'll have to pay people to be nice to me. Lovely.You've just done wonders for my ego."

"Ah, I didn't mean..."

"It doesn't matter. I know I look like a frump. I'm nearly 32 years of age and even though I'm a size 16 in Spanx, my boobs are still the same size as 13 yearolds. I know that I've turned into a slummy mummy. It's just a stage in my life, and I have to keep thinking that or
else I'll just crack up. OK?'

"Of course, you've just had a baby, give yourself a chance to adjust."

"Well, I'm not adjusting as quickly as I'd like, and until then I'd just appreciate a little understanding."

I was about to career off in a mini tantrum when Maddie stepped over to me and put her arms around me.

"Sshhh, it's OK. I do understand. Let's take baby steps here.You're still a big ride OK?"

"BIG being the operative word," I sniff.

I was waiting for Maddie to respond with an uplifting comment when I felt her grip on me loosen.

"Oh shit," she screamed pushing me out to the way.

"What?" The second I turned around I see what the drama was.

Woody was standing at the wingbacked chair where Maddie had left her jacket, with a black biro in hand, vigorously scribbling. The seat was a cream mock vintage design and it was destroyed. All I could do was laugh.

"I'm so sorry Eva, I'm mortified. Bold Woody. That's so naughty. Look what you did to Aunty Eva's good chair."

After my mini fit of the giggles, I told her, "It's fine. Honestly. Look..." I swapped the pen in return for Maddie's car keys and then started scribbling again on the chair myself.

"What the f*** are you doing Eva?" Maddie just looked at me in shock.

"I'm releasing some pent-up anger and it feels great. See, the chair is a complete mess now, and I feel much better. Thank you Woody for showing me the light. Why have I been trying to make everything perfect? It doesn't need to be. So what if this chair has
ink all over it? So what if I wear Bridget Jones knickers and eat mini chocolate bars every time I go to fridge for Daisy's bottles? Life's not perfect."

Unsure if I had finally lost the plot, Maddie picked up Woody and started to make her way to the door.

"Listen, it's a bad time. I really need to get this little guy over to my mam's. Write up that list and I'll text you later, yeah?"

As if she was running from a tornado she upped and left without waiting for me to reply, leaving me and my manic mind racing.

Daisy was now starting to mooch in her basket. I'd just have just enough time to squeeze in a quick cuppa before she fully woke up. There was also a packet of Cadbury's chocolate fingers hidden at the back of the press with my name on them.

Right now I was going to have some quality time with some yummy, scrummy chocolate, watch a little morning TV and switch off my brain.

Maybe by lunchtime I might be better able to focus on how to fix my life. If not, there's a fun pack of Milky Way's hidden in the pot cupboard.

Hello is dis Eva? "There was a man with a gruff Dublin accent at the other end of the phone.

"Mmmm, yes, this is Eva... Can I help you?"

"I'm ringin' about ure chair. Your mate has hired me ta clean it.When's gud to call up?"

"Oh, gosh, well, whenever." "Well it's sorted so, I can call up about three-ish, does that suit?"

"Yeah, cool. See you then."

It's a rarity that I get blown away by the sight of a man, but when I opened the door to 'Dave,' I couldn't help but go weak at the knees.

"Howsigoin? I'm Dave. Here to fix ure chair." Totally in shock, I just stood in the doorway staring at him.

"Are ya alright? Can I cum in?"

"Sorry, of course," I snapped out of my drooling momentarily

Unsure if I was part of some set up for Candid Camera, I looked outside to check if anyone was lurking in the bushes..

I came back in and as I turned around the corner there was Dave bent over my redesigned graffiti chair, his beautiful perfectly shaped bum through his black Snickers workman trousers directly in my face.

"Standard biro stuff - shouldn't be a problem.

"Hope you weren't checkin' out me arse, where ya? I've let meself go recently, it's an age thing. Can't fight it eh?" Before I had a chance to respond, he was out the front door off to his van.

I literally had two minutes to fix my hair and move Daisy into the other room, so as not to distract his attention from yours truly.

'Did ya miss me?' He chuckled as he walked back in, giving me a dirty Dublin wink. 'Don't suppose there's a cuppa tea goin'? I'm parched.'

Totally bowled over by his cheeky charm, not to mention his delectable derrière I almost skipped into the kitchen to put the kettle on.

Suddenly, he was standing really close to me holding a strange plastic container.

'Oh, could you fill her up please? A drop of water for the machine. And I have bad news. I didn't find any money down the back of the chair.'

'Right...' I let out a nervous giggle, and instantly start to blush with the mortification.

'The good news is you're my last job of the day, so I can take me time and clean up your chair just right. And I'm also on The Afternoon Show in twenty minutes; they asked me to do the odd handyman slot which I recorded last week, so we can sit down and watch that together. Huh. Happy endings or wot?'

Unable to speak, I turned back to the kettle and busied myself with putting teabags into cups. Happy endings he reckons... Could I be that bold?

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