‘You really put it away last night,’ chuckled Miles.

Jemima felt a swell of nausea but this time it wasn’t because of the three bottles of wine they’d sunk. It was him. She flung back the duvet and lurched to the window, scrambling to open it. Thunder rumbled in the distance but the cold, brutal breeze felt good.

‘Says it’s gonna rain most of today. Course, that needn’t bother us when we’re in LA, eh?’ said Miles as he swiped through the rest of the newspaper.

Jemima froze. ‘We’? As the first splatters of rain fell, her addled brain began to piece together fragments of their drunken conversation from the night before. She’d confessed her LA ambitions to Miles and he’d carped on about how he’d love to move there too. Oh god, Jemima murmured. She’d said moving would be great for his career and that he would love it there but he’d taken it to mean they should love it there together! This was madness. Jemima hadn’t even confirmed she was going! She clasped her hand over her mouth. It was LA that had initiated the sex. Miles had said how the dry LA heat made him horny and in her drunken haze Jemima had cranked up the heating to full blast. Next thing, they were entangled under her sheets while Miles negotiated the terms of his expatriation. Jemima deflated into a ball. LA was about getting away from everything she’d screwed up not taking it with her. If Miles was going to hijack her great escape, she might as well charter a plane and take Simi, Meagan, Chance, Shaheena, Eve and the staff of Hudson Hicks with her too.

‘Think of it, Jem-Jem,’ said Miles sliding in behind her at the window. ‘In a few months we could be doing this looking out at the Pacific Ocean.’

‘Mmmm, It’s still just an idea really. I haven’t actually confirmed anything,’ she said.

‘Well you need to. Rebecca’s offer won’t be on the table forever. Isn’t it great that with our jobs we can work anywhere?’ he laughed. ‘This could be amazing for me. I mean for us.’

‘Mmmmm.’

‘And I don’t want to jump the gun but with your dual citizenship, my green card should be a doddle,’ he said.

He put his arms around her, his grip feeling like a boa constricting its prey. Jemima shivered.

‘I’m so glad you called, Jem-Jem. To be honest, I thought you just wanted to shag. Which is fine. Girl power and all that but, well, inviting me to LA, it’s amazing. And look, I know I screwed up before but I promise – this is going to be different.’

‘Mmmmm!’ Jemima cringed.

But she hadn’t invited him! He’d invited himself and now she was trapped in his tightening grasp, desperate for an exit strategy.

Jemima jumped at the sound of a loud clackety thump! thump! thump! at her front door.

‘Blimey, the God Squad are getting aggressive,’ Miles joked as he nuzzled her neck. ‘Who could that be? It’s eight o’clock on a Sunday morning.’