At six-thirty the following evening, we’re pushing our way into a posh bar in central London. Amelia’s wearing her new shoes and a simple-but-sexy LBD. And since last night we were going through Amelia’s wardrobe, I borrowed my outfit from her closet. I’m wearing—drum roll here—a stretch-jersey print dress. A big change from my usual color palette of monochrome boring.

“Let’s go to the bar, I need a drink,” Amelia suggests.

“Is the kisser already here?” I ask. I can’t wait to see this guy.

Amelia takes a quick scan of the room. “No, not yet.”

“Drinks it is then.” I take her hand and shoulder my way into the crowd.

When we finally reach the bar, I order two martinis and two shots. Amelia needs to loosen up a little. As for me, the more alcohol in me, the less I think about Jake on his honeymoon; Jake moving into his new house with his wife; Jake making love to her… you get the gist.

“Here, shots first!” I take the two glasses and pass one to Amelia.

“I’m not doing shots. Are you crazy?”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to get drunk in front of all my colleagues. I’m already the office joke for what happened with Will. The last thing I need is to embarrass myself further.”

“I’m sure no one’s making fun of you for what happened.”

“No? You’re going to find out very soon. Flotsam and Jetsam are coming this way so you can see for yourself how charming my female colleagues are.”

“You named them Flotsam and Jetsam? After the Sea Witch minions in The Little Mermaid?”

“Yes, Flotsam’s the blonde,” Amelia whispers before parting her lips in a big, fake smile. “Felicia, Jackie… you made it.”

I turn around and choke on a chuckle. If Flotsam and Jetsam had to drink a magic potion and transform into deadly mean girls, Felicia and Jackie would make an excellent representation. They’re two thin Prada-clad evil-smiling minions. They even have their arms intertwined just like the eels’ tails in the movie, and apparently, they speak in unison too.

“Amelia, so good to see you,” they say in high-pitched voices, air kissing my friend.

“And who’s your friend?” Jetsam asks.

“Gemma, nice to meet you.” I wave to avoid having to shake their hands.

“We were just doing shots.” Amelia downs hers and I follow her lead. “You want to join us?”

“Now, Amelia. Shots? Seriously?” Flotsam asks. “Isn’t it a jot juvenile?”

“But now that you’re newly single,” Jetsam picks up the snarky banter, “you’re up for a bit of wildness.”

“So you two gals are married?” I jump into the conversation.

“No, we’re too concentrated on our careers,” they reply in chorus.

“We don’t want to keep you from your team building then,” I say.