‘Hey, Az. My usual – to go. Cheers,’ said Jemima, darting a furtive glance around the shop.

‘Wow! You look like poop!’ laughed Azi, as she glugged milk into her steamer jug.

‘Thank you!’ said Jemima, pulling her coat even more snugly around her.

If Azi thought she looked crappy now, imagine if she discovered she still had a pyjama top on.

‘Forgive my wife,’ Rania said with a roll of her eyes, topping up the pastries.

‘She knows what I mean. She’s so bloody gorgeous normally, with that beautiful skin. And she never ages. What are you? Seventy, seventy-five, eighty?’ Azi asked.

‘Alright, more coffee, less back-handed compliments,’ laughed Jemima.

Behind her the pshhhp of the door made her turn automatically. Her jaw clenched. It was Chance. Azi plonked Jemima’s to-go cup in front of her and Jemima snapped it up, her grin fixed in place. Of all the people to run into looking like this, her head pounding like there was a dress rehearsal of Stomp! going on in there, it had to be him.

‘Hey,’ he said with a broad smile, ‘I saw you walk in from my window and I… did you get my message?’

‘Message?’ asked Jemima.

‘Well, if you came in as often as you used to…’ scolded Azi.

‘I’ve been working,’ gabbled Jemima.

‘This is where you work!’ said Azi, flailing her hands at Jemima’s window seat.

Jemima felt her pulse increase. She hadn’t visualised a specific worst case scenario when she’d set out this morning, but this was a good place holder.

‘Azi,’ said Rania with her usual, calming tone.

Azi puffed out her cheeks. ‘Fine. I have a message. Chance is looking for you.’

She winked coyly which Jemima made a concerted effort to ignore. This was awkward enough without Azi playing some kind of percolated matchmaker. And why was he leaving messages for her anyway? She hoped it wasn’t to chat about Pete’s book. That was still in her hand luggage – unread.

‘What’s up? Jemima asked, hiding her concern.

‘I was thinking about your romantic predicament – with your book.’ Chance paused, clearing his throat. Jemima rearranged her coat as her discomfort increased.

‘Umm… Pete’s publisher invited him to a big book reading this Thursday but he’s delayed his trip to London so he asked if I wanted to go and then I thought, maybe you’d like to come?’

And just when Jemima thought things had reached peak-awkwardness.

She knew exactly whose book was being read because she had the same publisher as Pete and had been invited to the same thing, Descend into The Cave: A happening with Xandria Bishop. The pompous event name alone had made her bristle when she’d received the invite from Eve.

‘It’s a bit of a weird book. Kind of a romance hybrid thing but I thought it could give you some inspiration?’ said Chance.

Jemima tried to unscrunch her face. It was sweet of him but this was going to be a hard pass for a kabillion reasons.