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Two words come to mind after finishing this book: guilty pleasure. I know perhaps I shouldn’t have loved this book (just like I’m probably not supposed to love French Kiss). But I did anyway.
Josie Flynn is just starting to get over the betrayal of her soon-to-be-ex-husband, Damien—who, six months ago, got up one morning, packed his bags, and told her he’d fallen in love with someone else. So Josie has every reason to be less-than-ecstatic about flying from London to New York for her favorite cousin’s wedding to some mystery man she just met.
On the plane, Josie meets Matt Jarvis, a recently-divorced rock journalist who’s headed to New York to interview a new band. Matt and Josie find that they have a lot of bitterness in common—and they begin to form a connection that continues to grow as the two spend the day together. But that night, circumstances cause Matt to unintentionally leave Josie waiting in a Mexican restaurant alone. He’s determined to find her back and make it up to her—no matter what it takes. Because, he thinks, he might actually love her.
Meanwhile, Josie’s ex has decided that he doesn’t want to sign the divorce papers—because he needs the support (and the clean socks) that Josie gives him (though he realizes that he may need to go elsewhere for some of his other needs). So he hops on a plane to New York to get her back.
For Better, For Worse is a soap opera of a romantic comedy in book form. It’s outrageously unrealistic and just a little bit predictable, but it’s cute and amusing at the same time. Matthews writes with perfectly dry British wit, which only makes the story all the more entertaining. For Better, For Worse is a quick read that you’ll be reluctant to set aside until the characters have all collided and the dust has settled.
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