An enormous smile spread across his face. Jemima thought she’d seen it at full beam before, but this was dazzling.

‘That’s fantastic!’ he said taking her by her shoulders.

He kissed her on the cheek and she blushed.

‘Anyway,’ she flustered, ‘I’m sure I’ll get a tonne of notes.’

‘But you’ve done what ninety-nine point nine nine per cent of people can’t. You finished.’

Jemima felt herself blush again. It was true. Finishing the book had taken its toll but the one thing she could say for sure was that it existed. She’d done it. She placed her hand on his arm. As they talked, she let it slip down until eventually she could feel the warmth of his hand near hers. Their eyes met and Jemima became breathless. How was it that just the gentlest of touches, the briefest of looks could make her feel like this? Pleasure and pain once again. Did Chance feel the same, weak yet strong, excited and scared? But then she remembered the red-haired woman. The flushed feeling subsided and she put her hand back by her side.

‘Jemima? You okay?’ said Chance.

‘No – no, no, no, no,’ she hissed as she glared over his shoulder to an ice sculpture luge at the back of the hall. There, a reunited Simi and Meagan were slamming vodka shots – with Shaheena.

Jemima’s heart pounded. Chance evaporated from her thoughts as she watched them like an unexploded firework. Just then Shaheena and Meagan gasped, pointing over at Jemima. Her knees buckled.

‘Anyway, Chance, lovely to see you,’ she prattled as Meagan advanced.

Jemima scurried over to meet her in the middle of the room.

‘Everything okay?’ Jemima asked, voice quivering.

‘Who was that?’ said Meagan.

‘Who?’ said Jemima doing a terrible job of pretending.

‘The hottie you were just chatting with,’ said Meagan turning Jemima’s face towards Chance.

Jemima shook her head free. ‘He’s the, a… he’s the medic. In case of emergencies. Soooo, what have you and Shaheena been talking about?’ Jemima asked feigning ease.

‘Jeeez,’ said Meagan rolling her eyes, ‘she was carping on about your writing process. No offence. I’ll eat the sausage but don’t show me how it’s made, d’ya get me?’

Jemima’s shoulders dropped two inches.

‘You look stressed as fuck, mate. Your agent’s gone. Come get a shot from that sculpture thing. And quick before Simi drinks straight from it and gets her lips stuck to the ice,’ said Meagan dragging Jemima back to the luge.

Once there, Jemima thrust a glass under the sculpture and the bartender threw a shot of vodka down its icy shoot. She closed her eyes as the liquid burned coldly in her throat.

‘Better?’ said Meagan.

Jemima popped her eyes open. The girls were staring at her.

‘Yeah,’ she said, remembering to smile. ‘More importantly, how are you two? Everything cool?’

‘Cool and the gang, baby,’ Meagan said linking arms with Simi.

‘Sim?’ asked Jemima.

‘Brill!’ Simi said grinning hard.

Jemima scrutinised her face. Something was off. Though they’d got their friendship back on track, it was evident Simi was still going ahead with Operation: New Agent and Meagan didn’t know. Jemima tensed. That had a blast radius she would stay well clear of.