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Is She Really Going Out with Him?

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On sale Nov 19, 2024 | 11 Hours and 43 Minutes | 9780593943960
AN INSTANT USA TODAY BESTSELLER 

A LibraryReads Pick

A hilarious love story about a disillusioned divorcée who agrees to let her children play matchmaker.


Columnist Anna Appleby has left her love life behind after a painful divorce. Who needs a man when she has two kids, a cat, and uncontested control of the TV remote? Besides, she’d rather be single than subject herself to the hell of online dating. But her office rival is vying for her column, and no column means no stable source of income. In a desperate attempt to keep her job, Anna finds herself pitching a unique angle: seven dates, all found offline, chosen by her children.

From awkward encounters to unexpected connections, Anna gamely begins to put herself out there, asking out waiters, the mailman, and even her celebrity crush. But when a romantic connection appears where she least expected it, will she be brave enough to take another chance on love?
Chapter 1

"Only me," Lottie calls as she bustles through the front door, then presents me with an armful of sunflowers.

"Thank you, but you really don't need to keep bringing me flowers," I say, lifting them out of her arms.

"They're only from my garden," she says, waving me away with a hand. "Sunflowers are so cheering, don't you think?"

While I live in a three-bedroom semidetached in the suburbs of Bath, my sister and her husband, Seb, have moved into a country house with sprawling gardens and an apple orchard. Lottie makes her own jam, which she gifts people for Christmas. I'm embarrassed to admit what I gave most people for Christmas last year, but it starts with "Amazon" and ends with "vouchers."

"Are Jess and Ethan still awake?" she asks, following me through to the kitchen.

"In bed, but not asleep. Don't go up there or they'll want to come down and play cards with you."

"So, I met this new client yesterday," she tells me, climbing onto one of the barstools beside the kitchen island. "Fergus. He's South African, owns a pecan farm. Recently divorced." She opens her eyes wide.

"Right," I say, refusing to fall for the bait. Lottie runs her own business designing high-end treehouses, so she's always meeting interesting clients. I wouldn't have believed there was a market for forty-grand treehouses, but apparently, there is.

"I think you should meet him," she says.

"But I don't even like pecans," I say, being purposely obtuse. "If he were a walnut farmer, or even almonds, then maybe, but pecans? Not for me."

"Anna, seriously. You're just his type; I showed him a photo of you, and he wolf whistled."

"Yuck."

"Well, it wasn't a wolf whistle exactly, more of a whistling exhale, like 'Phewough!'"

"You are not selling this guy," I say, laughing now.

"It doesn't need to be a big deal, just a casual drink." She pauses, watching my face. "Any night you want, I will come over and babysit. I'm only twenty minutes away."

As I transfer the sunflowers to a vase, Lottie takes them from me and starts rearranging them herself. Watching her, I can't help smiling.

"I appreciate the thought, Lots, but honestly, I don't want to date. I am very happy on my own."

"You're very happy, are you?" Lottie asks, narrowing her eyes at me, then blowing a blond wisp of hair away from her face.

"I am perfectly content. Work is going well, the kids need me more than ever. I don't see a hole in my life that needs filling." Lottie raises an eyebrow at me, and I reach across the kitchen island to slap her shoulder. "Filthy woman."

"Even if it's not dating, I think you should get out more, take an art class, join a book club, something just for you. Your life can't be all about work and the children, then sitting on your sofa scrolling Instagram while watching Netflix."

"But there's so much TV I haven't seen yet," I say, pulling a goofy face as I open the fridge and take out a bottle of wine. "And I know no one will believe I've moved on until I'm seeing someone, but that is society's expectation, it has nothing to do with what I need. I am in my hibernation era."

I know there are plenty of women on Instagram who got divorced and took up running or weight lifting or started their own aromatherapy candle business. They look and feel better than ever, phoenixes risen from the ashes, embracing their "new chapter." I am not a phoenix. I am a dazed pigeon, looking for crumbs. But I am fine with that; being a phoenix looks exhausting.

Dan has moved on. Everyone knows Dan has moved on. Bath is a small place, and friends have seen him out on the town with various women. My colleague Kelly swiped past him online two weeks after he moved out, which was awkward. He's now dating some twenty-five-year-old called Sylvie, though I doubt it will last. I imagine he's having too much fun playing the field, after sitting on the bench with me for so long.

"Surely you miss"-Lottie smacks her lips-"you know . . ."

"What, sex?" I ask, pouring us both a glass of white wine, then I remember Lottie isn't drinking because she's four months pregnant, so I tip the contents of her glass into mine and start making her an elderflower spritzer with crushed ice and a wedge of lime, just the way she likes it.

"Yes. You don't need to be looking for a boyfriend or a husband. You could just join the apps, have some fun."

"Having sex with some random man I met on the internet is not my idea of fun," I tell her. "And weirdly, no, I don't miss it as much as you might think."

"My friend Tasha didn't have sex for five years and she got vaginal atrophy. Use it or lose it, sister."

"'Use it or lose it'? Who are you?" I say, laughing at her as we carry our drinks and a bowl of crisps through to the living room.

I take the too-low armchair and offer Lottie the couch. Looking around the room, I feel a tinge of embarrassment. Lottie is family, she wouldn't judge or care, but she must notice how differently we live these days. It's not that her house is bigger or more expensive than mine (though it is both those things), but Lottie's home feels loved, cared for, full of complementary color schemes, while mine feels a little like my bikini line: neglected.

When Dan left, he took some lamps and two side tables that I haven't replaced. The furniture I do have is inoffensive and neutral, mainly chosen for its durability or price tag rather than any coordinated vision. The bookshelves are overloaded with jigsaws and board games that the children have outgrown, and the foot of this L-shaped room still holds Jess's old play kitchen and a dresser full of long-forgotten toys. Everything is tidy enough, but also cluttered and chaotic.

"Sorry about the mess," I say to Lottie, pushing a box of Lego beneath the sofa with my foot.

"Don't be silly, I love your house, it feels so lived-in," she says, but then, looking around, adds, "Though if you did ever want to redecorate, I could help you do a spring clean. We could make a weekend of it."

"Thanks, but it's not really a priority right now," I say, wondering, somewhat meanly, how long Lottie's beautifully curated aesthetic will last when she has a toddler roaming the house. Lottie only shrugs, undeterred by my rejection of every one of her suggestions.

"This is the client I told you about, Fergus," she says, opening her phone and leaning over to show me a picture of a man with gray hair and designer stubble. "He's fifty-four but looks younger. What do you think?"

"I think he looks fifty-four and like he would tell me a lot of information about pecans," I say as my cat, Katniss, jumps onto my lap and starts purring appreciatively as I stroke her head.

"Fifty-four isn't that old. What's your cutoff?" Lottie asks.

"I don't have a cutoff, because I'm not looking to meet someone. What is it with married people and their assumption that all single people must be just yearning to get back into a coupled state? People are not chopsticks; they do work alone."

"Okay, I know, but humor me. Who else is there? What about your hot neighbor? He's your age, that would be so convenient," Lottie says, tucking her legs beneath her like a dainty doll. "I know it's tragic and everything, but there is something so romantic about a young widower."

"Noah? Ha! Noah has the social skills of a spoon."

"Okay, what about at work?" Lottie asks. "Who's that tall, sexy guy with the glasses? The one I met when I took you for lunch that time?"

"Will Havers? Um, no," I say, pulling my lips into a grimace.

"Yes, him! What's wrong with him?"

"Where do I start? He's arrogant and entitled, way too young-"

"What is he? Late twenties? People wouldn't think twice about a thirty-eight-year-old man dating a twenty-eight-year-old woman," Lottie says, sloshing her drink into her lap as she gesticulates.

"I know, but regardless of age, he's not my type."

"You don't have a type, you had a Dan."

She might right, but my patience with this conversation has expired.

"Will Havers is a serial dater who objectifies women. I know for a fact he only dates girls under thirty-three and over five foot eight. He wears shirts monogrammed with his initials, thinks he's God's gift to journalism, can't pass a mirror without checking himself out, and he mansplains in meetings." I finish my rant, exhale loudly, then take a large swig of wine. Lottie grins. "What?"

"For someone you have zero interest in, you seem to know quite a lot about this man," she says, raising an eyebrow at me. "At least we're narrowing down your age bracket: younger than fifty-four, older than twenty-eight." Lottie taps her nose and gives me a sly grin. "I'm just happy to hear you sound so passionate."

"I am not passionate about Will Havers," I say, throwing a cushion at her. She bites back a smile as she hands me the bowl of crisps. Just as I think the Spanish Inquisition might be over and I might be allowed to enjoy a peaceful evening, we hear the sound of two baby elephants thundering down the stairs.

"Auntie Lottie! I told you I heard her," Ethan yells as he dives onto the sofa beside her. "Can we play poker?" Ethan is only seven, but Lottie has been teaching him all the card games she knows. She is one of those fun aunts who loves board games and knows how to make papier-mâché.

"Not poker. Maybe a quick game of Uno, then straight back to bed. It is a school night," I tell him.

"I'm brilliant at Uno," Ethan tells us.

"Mum always cheats at Uno," says Jess, who, at twelve, has taken up a new hobby-criticizing everything I do.

"I do not," I say, giving up my chair and moving to sit on the floor.

"Uno, Uno, Uno!" Lottie chants, and I see I am outnumbered.

"Ooh, crisps," says Ethan, taking the bowl from my lap.

Google searches:

Health benefits of pecans

In Uno can you stack Draw 2 cards on top of one another?

What is vaginal atrophy?

Chapter 2

The next morning, after walking Ethan to school, I get the bus into town, then I need to speed-walk up the high street if I'm going to get to my desk by nine o'clock. Bath Living has offices in the historic center, on the ground floor of a Georgian town house. I've been at the magazine for five years, and my job has provided much-needed stability while the rest of my life was falling apart. Jonathan, the managing director, is a sweetheart. He lets me work flexible hours, and while I started out as freelance, I'm now a staff writer with my own column. I know lots of people hate their job, so I count myself lucky that I have nothing to complain about on that front.

As I'm hurrying up Monmouth Street toward the office, someone falls into step beside me. "Morning." I turn to see the looming figure of Will Havers smiling down at me. Scrap that, I do have one complaint. While I've thrown on whatever clothes I could find in my rush to leave the house, Will is always perfectly styled. Today he is modeling "spring work wear" from his catalog of looks: blue suit trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a perfectly tailored beige trench coat. He's also sporting his trademark dark-rimmed glasses, which I suspect he wears more for fashion than for vision.

"Morning, Will," I reply. It's a five-minute walk to the office. I can be civil for five minutes. Though I'm power walking as fast as I can, Will has such long legs, he need only saunter to keep pace with me.

"Good weekend?" he asks.

"Yes. You?"

"Wonderful.

"I saw the layout for your piece on the art exhibition at the Pump Room," he says.

"Right," I say, unable to hide my suspicion. Will has only been at the magazine for six months. He's the same level as I am but acts as though he's more senior and has a habit of giving unsolicited feedback.

"I liked your interview with the graphic artist, it's smart, funny," Will tells me.

"Thank you," I say, turning to look at him. I can't believe he brought it up just to give me a compliment.

"If it were me, I would include a few more photos of guests at the opening," he says, swinging his leather document wallet, which has WH embossed in gold on the side. "People like seeing the fashionable faces invited to these events as much as they like seeing the art." And there it is, the feedback I didn't ask for.

"It's about the exhibition though, the artist, it's not a who's who," I say tightly, trying to increase my pace.

"Sure," he says, nodding just once. "I don't mean to criticize." Except he does. "Jonathan has asked me to look at how we can skew toward a younger demographic. With events like this, the social angle always helps. We need people to tag us on their socials, make the exhibition look like it was the place to be. The art is secondary."

"Secondary?" I say while exhaling a burst of angry air. "This isn't Hello magazine. It was a serious piece about a serious artist."

"Which is why it was seriously dull," Will says, and I can hear him smiling before I stop on the street and turn to glower at him, one hand planted on my hip. "Sorry," he says, with a smile that says he's not sorry at all. "I'm only winding you up, it wasn't dull. I just think you should review the photos before it goes to print, make it look like people were actually there."

"Will, I have been working as a journalist for longer than you've had facial hair, so I don't think I need your input, but thank you," I say through gritted teeth.

"Five typos says otherwise, but sure," Will says under his breath.

"There were not five typos in that article." I feel my rage building now, while Will remains infuriatingly cheerful.

"If we're counting grammatical errors, yes, there were five."

Glaring up at him, I take in the strong jaw, the green brooding eyes, the mouth that looks as though it's permanently trying to conceal some private amusement. He reminds me of a cartoon villain or the man on the cover of a romance novel. His good looks are so boringly predictable, it's all 2D perfection, there's no nuance to his face at all.
One of Bustle’s Best New Books of Fall 2024
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One of People's Best Books of November 2024
One of Swooon's 10 Best Romance Books of November 2024


"[A] laugh-out-loud love story." —Woman's World

"[A] hilariously heartwarming jaunt about finding love later in life with characters that feel like friends."People

"Every season is rom com season. . . . This How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days-esque one is going to be all over BookTok when it comes out. . . . This is the time to read up on the rest of Sophie Cousens’ backlist while you’re at it." —theSkimm

"Fresh and funny . . . For some of us, figuring our who we are outside of our roles and responsibilities can be tricky. Is She Really Going Out with Him? by Sophie Cousens offers ample wit and wisdom on the subject." —Real Simple

"Over the course of four novels, Sophie Cousens has quietly but reliably become one of my most anticipated authors of romantic comedies . . . A lovely exploration of a woman embarking on rebuilding her life and reimagining her future. While the romance aspect is genuine, enticing and central to the plot, Anna's story of learning to reprioritize herself and revive her friendship networks in the wake of divorce is almost as important. Although there are heart-tugging moments here, there is also plenty of humor (relinquishing oneself to a series of blind dates is an inherently funny plot setup, after all). This is the perfect book to give to a good friend this holiday season, or to cherish for yourself when you need a beautifully written, heartwarming hug of a novel." —Book Reporter

"[A] lovely story of second chances in Is She Really Going Out with Him?, a novel perfect for fans of Annabel Monaghan or Sophie Kinsella. . . . Smart and poignant, Is She Really Going Out with Him? is a little bit about love and a lot about fresh starts. Readers who have questioned where life has brought them are sure to relate to Anna's joys and sorrows as she navigates circumstances she never saw coming (fishing hook stuck in a date's face, anyone?). Occasionally laugh-out-loud funny and often introspective, Is She Really Going Out with Him? is a delight." —Shelf Awareness

"[A] playful, breezy read." —AV Club
Swooon

"An upbeat, page-turning good time that explores themes of love, family, and self-acceptance. Cousens’ witty writing style (banter is her strong suit) and relatable characters elevate the book from the expected . . . If, headed into the holiday season, a reader is in need of a heartwarming hug in book form, wrapped in a witty, romantic comedy package, this is your book. You’ll be cheering on Anna and rooting for her to find happiness . . . [A] timeless romantic comedy." —Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

"Light-hearted, fun and exactly what a reader looking for an easy read needs." —Arkansas Traveler

"Another bright and gratifying love story from Cousens. . . . She tackles the enemies-to-lovers trope with characteristic humor and thoughtfulness, while injecting it with complex characters and realistic situations." —Library Journal (starred review)

"Memorable scenes, lovable characters and a bit of magic meld in this time-hopping saga." —Woman’s World

"[Cousens] delivers another refreshing novel that takes readers on an unexpected journey…Through a series of chaotic, charming, and surprising rendezvous, Anna begins to find herself again. . . . Complete with a cast of well-developed and memorable characters, Cousens expertly weaves together themes of self-discovery, romance, motherhood, and friendship, resulting in a rich story that is engrossing to the end with high appeal to women's lit readers." —Booklist (starred)

"Cousens has a well-earned reputation for writing delightful love stories, and this one more than delivers. The enemies-to-lovers chemistry between Anna and Will is both believable and steamy, and Cousens deftly plays with rom-com tropes while crafting a journey of self-discovery in the wake of divorce. It’s also refreshing to read a slightly older heroine—Anna is in her late 30s, an age that often seems nonexistent in romances—with an established life, career, and children. A supremely satisfying love story with all the charm readers have come to expect from Cousens." —Kirkus Reviews (starred)

"This is a charmer." —Publishers Weekly

"Three words: rivals-to-lovers, and I’m obsessed! Is She Really Going Out with Him? is a love letter to us messy readers who obsess over gossip columns and all the piping hot tea. It’s How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days meets He's Just Not That Into You with all the sizzling chemistry of an Emily Henry novel, and Sophie Cousens does it best!” —Ashley Poston, New York Times bestselling author of A Novel Love Story, The Dead Romantics, and The Seven Year Slip

"Clever, thought-provoking, and oh-so-funny, Sophie Cousens’s latest novel will make anyone consider all their potential mates—and the best and worst dates. Original and witty, this novel is a true delight, one that had me reading non-stop to find out what happened and making me miss the characters once it ended. Who says parents can’t have fun?!" —Zibby Owens, bestselling author of Blank, host of Moms Don’t Have Time to Read Books

"Is She Really Going Out with Him has all the ingredients to become your next favorite read: a protagonist you can root for, a mysterious love interest you’ll (eventually) swoon over, iconic dating scenes that will leave you in stitches, and a path to love that’s sweet, fun, and uplifting. Cousens is a master at writing enchanting, laugh-out-loud stories that tug at your heartstrings. You will be charmed!" —Mia Sosa, USA Today bestselling author of The Worst Best Man

"Zippy dialogue, a great cast, and a delicious enemies to lovers plot made me want to turn my phone off and read in one sitting. . . . Charming, with so much heart and Cousens’ trademark wit—a fab read." —Cesca Major, author of Maybe Next Time
 
"Sophie Cousens has been one of my favorite writers for years now, and with Is She Really Going Out With Him? proves that she is only getting better and better with each book. This book has it all: heart, humor, and buckets of charm. Anna's journey was completely captivating and yet entirely relatable, while Will is a deliciously swoony hero. Cousens has done it again!" —Falon Ballard, author of Right on Cue

"Brimming with Cousens’ trademark wit, charm, and richly drawn characters, Is She Really Going Out With Him is a page-turning romance that spotlights parenthood, community, and knowing your worth. I'll read anything Sophie Cousens writes!" —Ellie Palmer, author of Four Weekends and a Funeral

"Sophie Cousens masterfully slips another gorgeous life lesson between page after page of pitch perfect jokes and a romance that builds just right. This one might be her most touching yet - that the path back to ourselves is always through the eyes of the people that love us most." —Jessie Rosen, author of The Heirloom
© Max Burnett
Sophie Cousens worked as a TV producer in London for twelve years. She is now a full-time novelist and screenwriter who lives with her family on the island of Jersey, one of the Channel Islands. She is also the New York Times bestselling author of This Time Next Year, Just Haven’t Met You Yet, Before I Do, The Good Part, and Is She Really Going Out with Him?. Her work has been translated into twenty-one languages and her adaptation of This Time Next Year has been produced into a film. View titles by Sophie Cousens

About

AN INSTANT USA TODAY BESTSELLER 

A LibraryReads Pick

A hilarious love story about a disillusioned divorcée who agrees to let her children play matchmaker.


Columnist Anna Appleby has left her love life behind after a painful divorce. Who needs a man when she has two kids, a cat, and uncontested control of the TV remote? Besides, she’d rather be single than subject herself to the hell of online dating. But her office rival is vying for her column, and no column means no stable source of income. In a desperate attempt to keep her job, Anna finds herself pitching a unique angle: seven dates, all found offline, chosen by her children.

From awkward encounters to unexpected connections, Anna gamely begins to put herself out there, asking out waiters, the mailman, and even her celebrity crush. But when a romantic connection appears where she least expected it, will she be brave enough to take another chance on love?

Excerpt

Chapter 1

"Only me," Lottie calls as she bustles through the front door, then presents me with an armful of sunflowers.

"Thank you, but you really don't need to keep bringing me flowers," I say, lifting them out of her arms.

"They're only from my garden," she says, waving me away with a hand. "Sunflowers are so cheering, don't you think?"

While I live in a three-bedroom semidetached in the suburbs of Bath, my sister and her husband, Seb, have moved into a country house with sprawling gardens and an apple orchard. Lottie makes her own jam, which she gifts people for Christmas. I'm embarrassed to admit what I gave most people for Christmas last year, but it starts with "Amazon" and ends with "vouchers."

"Are Jess and Ethan still awake?" she asks, following me through to the kitchen.

"In bed, but not asleep. Don't go up there or they'll want to come down and play cards with you."

"So, I met this new client yesterday," she tells me, climbing onto one of the barstools beside the kitchen island. "Fergus. He's South African, owns a pecan farm. Recently divorced." She opens her eyes wide.

"Right," I say, refusing to fall for the bait. Lottie runs her own business designing high-end treehouses, so she's always meeting interesting clients. I wouldn't have believed there was a market for forty-grand treehouses, but apparently, there is.

"I think you should meet him," she says.

"But I don't even like pecans," I say, being purposely obtuse. "If he were a walnut farmer, or even almonds, then maybe, but pecans? Not for me."

"Anna, seriously. You're just his type; I showed him a photo of you, and he wolf whistled."

"Yuck."

"Well, it wasn't a wolf whistle exactly, more of a whistling exhale, like 'Phewough!'"

"You are not selling this guy," I say, laughing now.

"It doesn't need to be a big deal, just a casual drink." She pauses, watching my face. "Any night you want, I will come over and babysit. I'm only twenty minutes away."

As I transfer the sunflowers to a vase, Lottie takes them from me and starts rearranging them herself. Watching her, I can't help smiling.

"I appreciate the thought, Lots, but honestly, I don't want to date. I am very happy on my own."

"You're very happy, are you?" Lottie asks, narrowing her eyes at me, then blowing a blond wisp of hair away from her face.

"I am perfectly content. Work is going well, the kids need me more than ever. I don't see a hole in my life that needs filling." Lottie raises an eyebrow at me, and I reach across the kitchen island to slap her shoulder. "Filthy woman."

"Even if it's not dating, I think you should get out more, take an art class, join a book club, something just for you. Your life can't be all about work and the children, then sitting on your sofa scrolling Instagram while watching Netflix."

"But there's so much TV I haven't seen yet," I say, pulling a goofy face as I open the fridge and take out a bottle of wine. "And I know no one will believe I've moved on until I'm seeing someone, but that is society's expectation, it has nothing to do with what I need. I am in my hibernation era."

I know there are plenty of women on Instagram who got divorced and took up running or weight lifting or started their own aromatherapy candle business. They look and feel better than ever, phoenixes risen from the ashes, embracing their "new chapter." I am not a phoenix. I am a dazed pigeon, looking for crumbs. But I am fine with that; being a phoenix looks exhausting.

Dan has moved on. Everyone knows Dan has moved on. Bath is a small place, and friends have seen him out on the town with various women. My colleague Kelly swiped past him online two weeks after he moved out, which was awkward. He's now dating some twenty-five-year-old called Sylvie, though I doubt it will last. I imagine he's having too much fun playing the field, after sitting on the bench with me for so long.

"Surely you miss"-Lottie smacks her lips-"you know . . ."

"What, sex?" I ask, pouring us both a glass of white wine, then I remember Lottie isn't drinking because she's four months pregnant, so I tip the contents of her glass into mine and start making her an elderflower spritzer with crushed ice and a wedge of lime, just the way she likes it.

"Yes. You don't need to be looking for a boyfriend or a husband. You could just join the apps, have some fun."

"Having sex with some random man I met on the internet is not my idea of fun," I tell her. "And weirdly, no, I don't miss it as much as you might think."

"My friend Tasha didn't have sex for five years and she got vaginal atrophy. Use it or lose it, sister."

"'Use it or lose it'? Who are you?" I say, laughing at her as we carry our drinks and a bowl of crisps through to the living room.

I take the too-low armchair and offer Lottie the couch. Looking around the room, I feel a tinge of embarrassment. Lottie is family, she wouldn't judge or care, but she must notice how differently we live these days. It's not that her house is bigger or more expensive than mine (though it is both those things), but Lottie's home feels loved, cared for, full of complementary color schemes, while mine feels a little like my bikini line: neglected.

When Dan left, he took some lamps and two side tables that I haven't replaced. The furniture I do have is inoffensive and neutral, mainly chosen for its durability or price tag rather than any coordinated vision. The bookshelves are overloaded with jigsaws and board games that the children have outgrown, and the foot of this L-shaped room still holds Jess's old play kitchen and a dresser full of long-forgotten toys. Everything is tidy enough, but also cluttered and chaotic.

"Sorry about the mess," I say to Lottie, pushing a box of Lego beneath the sofa with my foot.

"Don't be silly, I love your house, it feels so lived-in," she says, but then, looking around, adds, "Though if you did ever want to redecorate, I could help you do a spring clean. We could make a weekend of it."

"Thanks, but it's not really a priority right now," I say, wondering, somewhat meanly, how long Lottie's beautifully curated aesthetic will last when she has a toddler roaming the house. Lottie only shrugs, undeterred by my rejection of every one of her suggestions.

"This is the client I told you about, Fergus," she says, opening her phone and leaning over to show me a picture of a man with gray hair and designer stubble. "He's fifty-four but looks younger. What do you think?"

"I think he looks fifty-four and like he would tell me a lot of information about pecans," I say as my cat, Katniss, jumps onto my lap and starts purring appreciatively as I stroke her head.

"Fifty-four isn't that old. What's your cutoff?" Lottie asks.

"I don't have a cutoff, because I'm not looking to meet someone. What is it with married people and their assumption that all single people must be just yearning to get back into a coupled state? People are not chopsticks; they do work alone."

"Okay, I know, but humor me. Who else is there? What about your hot neighbor? He's your age, that would be so convenient," Lottie says, tucking her legs beneath her like a dainty doll. "I know it's tragic and everything, but there is something so romantic about a young widower."

"Noah? Ha! Noah has the social skills of a spoon."

"Okay, what about at work?" Lottie asks. "Who's that tall, sexy guy with the glasses? The one I met when I took you for lunch that time?"

"Will Havers? Um, no," I say, pulling my lips into a grimace.

"Yes, him! What's wrong with him?"

"Where do I start? He's arrogant and entitled, way too young-"

"What is he? Late twenties? People wouldn't think twice about a thirty-eight-year-old man dating a twenty-eight-year-old woman," Lottie says, sloshing her drink into her lap as she gesticulates.

"I know, but regardless of age, he's not my type."

"You don't have a type, you had a Dan."

She might right, but my patience with this conversation has expired.

"Will Havers is a serial dater who objectifies women. I know for a fact he only dates girls under thirty-three and over five foot eight. He wears shirts monogrammed with his initials, thinks he's God's gift to journalism, can't pass a mirror without checking himself out, and he mansplains in meetings." I finish my rant, exhale loudly, then take a large swig of wine. Lottie grins. "What?"

"For someone you have zero interest in, you seem to know quite a lot about this man," she says, raising an eyebrow at me. "At least we're narrowing down your age bracket: younger than fifty-four, older than twenty-eight." Lottie taps her nose and gives me a sly grin. "I'm just happy to hear you sound so passionate."

"I am not passionate about Will Havers," I say, throwing a cushion at her. She bites back a smile as she hands me the bowl of crisps. Just as I think the Spanish Inquisition might be over and I might be allowed to enjoy a peaceful evening, we hear the sound of two baby elephants thundering down the stairs.

"Auntie Lottie! I told you I heard her," Ethan yells as he dives onto the sofa beside her. "Can we play poker?" Ethan is only seven, but Lottie has been teaching him all the card games she knows. She is one of those fun aunts who loves board games and knows how to make papier-mâché.

"Not poker. Maybe a quick game of Uno, then straight back to bed. It is a school night," I tell him.

"I'm brilliant at Uno," Ethan tells us.

"Mum always cheats at Uno," says Jess, who, at twelve, has taken up a new hobby-criticizing everything I do.

"I do not," I say, giving up my chair and moving to sit on the floor.

"Uno, Uno, Uno!" Lottie chants, and I see I am outnumbered.

"Ooh, crisps," says Ethan, taking the bowl from my lap.

Google searches:

Health benefits of pecans

In Uno can you stack Draw 2 cards on top of one another?

What is vaginal atrophy?

Chapter 2

The next morning, after walking Ethan to school, I get the bus into town, then I need to speed-walk up the high street if I'm going to get to my desk by nine o'clock. Bath Living has offices in the historic center, on the ground floor of a Georgian town house. I've been at the magazine for five years, and my job has provided much-needed stability while the rest of my life was falling apart. Jonathan, the managing director, is a sweetheart. He lets me work flexible hours, and while I started out as freelance, I'm now a staff writer with my own column. I know lots of people hate their job, so I count myself lucky that I have nothing to complain about on that front.

As I'm hurrying up Monmouth Street toward the office, someone falls into step beside me. "Morning." I turn to see the looming figure of Will Havers smiling down at me. Scrap that, I do have one complaint. While I've thrown on whatever clothes I could find in my rush to leave the house, Will is always perfectly styled. Today he is modeling "spring work wear" from his catalog of looks: blue suit trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a perfectly tailored beige trench coat. He's also sporting his trademark dark-rimmed glasses, which I suspect he wears more for fashion than for vision.

"Morning, Will," I reply. It's a five-minute walk to the office. I can be civil for five minutes. Though I'm power walking as fast as I can, Will has such long legs, he need only saunter to keep pace with me.

"Good weekend?" he asks.

"Yes. You?"

"Wonderful.

"I saw the layout for your piece on the art exhibition at the Pump Room," he says.

"Right," I say, unable to hide my suspicion. Will has only been at the magazine for six months. He's the same level as I am but acts as though he's more senior and has a habit of giving unsolicited feedback.

"I liked your interview with the graphic artist, it's smart, funny," Will tells me.

"Thank you," I say, turning to look at him. I can't believe he brought it up just to give me a compliment.

"If it were me, I would include a few more photos of guests at the opening," he says, swinging his leather document wallet, which has WH embossed in gold on the side. "People like seeing the fashionable faces invited to these events as much as they like seeing the art." And there it is, the feedback I didn't ask for.

"It's about the exhibition though, the artist, it's not a who's who," I say tightly, trying to increase my pace.

"Sure," he says, nodding just once. "I don't mean to criticize." Except he does. "Jonathan has asked me to look at how we can skew toward a younger demographic. With events like this, the social angle always helps. We need people to tag us on their socials, make the exhibition look like it was the place to be. The art is secondary."

"Secondary?" I say while exhaling a burst of angry air. "This isn't Hello magazine. It was a serious piece about a serious artist."

"Which is why it was seriously dull," Will says, and I can hear him smiling before I stop on the street and turn to glower at him, one hand planted on my hip. "Sorry," he says, with a smile that says he's not sorry at all. "I'm only winding you up, it wasn't dull. I just think you should review the photos before it goes to print, make it look like people were actually there."

"Will, I have been working as a journalist for longer than you've had facial hair, so I don't think I need your input, but thank you," I say through gritted teeth.

"Five typos says otherwise, but sure," Will says under his breath.

"There were not five typos in that article." I feel my rage building now, while Will remains infuriatingly cheerful.

"If we're counting grammatical errors, yes, there were five."

Glaring up at him, I take in the strong jaw, the green brooding eyes, the mouth that looks as though it's permanently trying to conceal some private amusement. He reminds me of a cartoon villain or the man on the cover of a romance novel. His good looks are so boringly predictable, it's all 2D perfection, there's no nuance to his face at all.

Reviews

One of Bustle’s Best New Books of Fall 2024
One of BookBub’s Best Books of Fall 2024

One of Nerd Daily’s Most Anticipated Books of 2024

One of SheReads’ Most Anticipated Books of Fall 2024
One of LitHub’s Ultimate Fall 2024 Reading List
One of theSkimm's Most Anticipated Books of Fall 2024
One of People's Best Books of November 2024
One of Swooon's 10 Best Romance Books of November 2024


"[A] laugh-out-loud love story." —Woman's World

"[A] hilariously heartwarming jaunt about finding love later in life with characters that feel like friends."People

"Every season is rom com season. . . . This How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days-esque one is going to be all over BookTok when it comes out. . . . This is the time to read up on the rest of Sophie Cousens’ backlist while you’re at it." —theSkimm

"Fresh and funny . . . For some of us, figuring our who we are outside of our roles and responsibilities can be tricky. Is She Really Going Out with Him? by Sophie Cousens offers ample wit and wisdom on the subject." —Real Simple

"Over the course of four novels, Sophie Cousens has quietly but reliably become one of my most anticipated authors of romantic comedies . . . A lovely exploration of a woman embarking on rebuilding her life and reimagining her future. While the romance aspect is genuine, enticing and central to the plot, Anna's story of learning to reprioritize herself and revive her friendship networks in the wake of divorce is almost as important. Although there are heart-tugging moments here, there is also plenty of humor (relinquishing oneself to a series of blind dates is an inherently funny plot setup, after all). This is the perfect book to give to a good friend this holiday season, or to cherish for yourself when you need a beautifully written, heartwarming hug of a novel." —Book Reporter

"[A] lovely story of second chances in Is She Really Going Out with Him?, a novel perfect for fans of Annabel Monaghan or Sophie Kinsella. . . . Smart and poignant, Is She Really Going Out with Him? is a little bit about love and a lot about fresh starts. Readers who have questioned where life has brought them are sure to relate to Anna's joys and sorrows as she navigates circumstances she never saw coming (fishing hook stuck in a date's face, anyone?). Occasionally laugh-out-loud funny and often introspective, Is She Really Going Out with Him? is a delight." —Shelf Awareness

"[A] playful, breezy read." —AV Club
Swooon

"An upbeat, page-turning good time that explores themes of love, family, and self-acceptance. Cousens’ witty writing style (banter is her strong suit) and relatable characters elevate the book from the expected . . . If, headed into the holiday season, a reader is in need of a heartwarming hug in book form, wrapped in a witty, romantic comedy package, this is your book. You’ll be cheering on Anna and rooting for her to find happiness . . . [A] timeless romantic comedy." —Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

"Light-hearted, fun and exactly what a reader looking for an easy read needs." —Arkansas Traveler

"Another bright and gratifying love story from Cousens. . . . She tackles the enemies-to-lovers trope with characteristic humor and thoughtfulness, while injecting it with complex characters and realistic situations." —Library Journal (starred review)

"Memorable scenes, lovable characters and a bit of magic meld in this time-hopping saga." —Woman’s World

"[Cousens] delivers another refreshing novel that takes readers on an unexpected journey…Through a series of chaotic, charming, and surprising rendezvous, Anna begins to find herself again. . . . Complete with a cast of well-developed and memorable characters, Cousens expertly weaves together themes of self-discovery, romance, motherhood, and friendship, resulting in a rich story that is engrossing to the end with high appeal to women's lit readers." —Booklist (starred)

"Cousens has a well-earned reputation for writing delightful love stories, and this one more than delivers. The enemies-to-lovers chemistry between Anna and Will is both believable and steamy, and Cousens deftly plays with rom-com tropes while crafting a journey of self-discovery in the wake of divorce. It’s also refreshing to read a slightly older heroine—Anna is in her late 30s, an age that often seems nonexistent in romances—with an established life, career, and children. A supremely satisfying love story with all the charm readers have come to expect from Cousens." —Kirkus Reviews (starred)

"This is a charmer." —Publishers Weekly

"Three words: rivals-to-lovers, and I’m obsessed! Is She Really Going Out with Him? is a love letter to us messy readers who obsess over gossip columns and all the piping hot tea. It’s How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days meets He's Just Not That Into You with all the sizzling chemistry of an Emily Henry novel, and Sophie Cousens does it best!” —Ashley Poston, New York Times bestselling author of A Novel Love Story, The Dead Romantics, and The Seven Year Slip

"Clever, thought-provoking, and oh-so-funny, Sophie Cousens’s latest novel will make anyone consider all their potential mates—and the best and worst dates. Original and witty, this novel is a true delight, one that had me reading non-stop to find out what happened and making me miss the characters once it ended. Who says parents can’t have fun?!" —Zibby Owens, bestselling author of Blank, host of Moms Don’t Have Time to Read Books

"Is She Really Going Out with Him has all the ingredients to become your next favorite read: a protagonist you can root for, a mysterious love interest you’ll (eventually) swoon over, iconic dating scenes that will leave you in stitches, and a path to love that’s sweet, fun, and uplifting. Cousens is a master at writing enchanting, laugh-out-loud stories that tug at your heartstrings. You will be charmed!" —Mia Sosa, USA Today bestselling author of The Worst Best Man

"Zippy dialogue, a great cast, and a delicious enemies to lovers plot made me want to turn my phone off and read in one sitting. . . . Charming, with so much heart and Cousens’ trademark wit—a fab read." —Cesca Major, author of Maybe Next Time
 
"Sophie Cousens has been one of my favorite writers for years now, and with Is She Really Going Out With Him? proves that she is only getting better and better with each book. This book has it all: heart, humor, and buckets of charm. Anna's journey was completely captivating and yet entirely relatable, while Will is a deliciously swoony hero. Cousens has done it again!" —Falon Ballard, author of Right on Cue

"Brimming with Cousens’ trademark wit, charm, and richly drawn characters, Is She Really Going Out With Him is a page-turning romance that spotlights parenthood, community, and knowing your worth. I'll read anything Sophie Cousens writes!" —Ellie Palmer, author of Four Weekends and a Funeral

"Sophie Cousens masterfully slips another gorgeous life lesson between page after page of pitch perfect jokes and a romance that builds just right. This one might be her most touching yet - that the path back to ourselves is always through the eyes of the people that love us most." —Jessie Rosen, author of The Heirloom

Author

© Max Burnett
Sophie Cousens worked as a TV producer in London for twelve years. She is now a full-time novelist and screenwriter who lives with her family on the island of Jersey, one of the Channel Islands. She is also the New York Times bestselling author of This Time Next Year, Just Haven’t Met You Yet, Before I Do, The Good Part, and Is She Really Going Out with Him?. Her work has been translated into twenty-one languages and her adaptation of This Time Next Year has been produced into a film. View titles by Sophie Cousens