The lights are still blocking my field of vision. I take a step forward so that I can see. Hugh is standing up in the middle of the auditorium. I didn’t know it was possible to forget how handsome someone is until I see him. I can tell he’s unsure about what he’s doing – he’s not standing up as straight as usual, and his jaw is so pronounced it seems like he’s clenching it.

The audience is looking to me expectantly. I open my mouth to speak but suddenly my throat is dry. I practically lunge for the water bottle on the table.

‘I would like to clear something up,’ Hugh says, turning to address the audience behind him. He has an easy way with crowds, I can tell already. ‘I can second that the wrasse was spotted, and I’ve filed a petition for an exception so that my sighting and the photograph can count as proof of existence. I accompanied Andi on her dives and also saw the butterfly wrasse. Just wanted to make sure that was known.’ With that, he sinks back into his seat.

I can barely finish the rest of the presentation, I’m so distracted. I fumble out the closing words and quickly click through the acknowledgement slides, desperate to get backstage, away from the lights, desperate to talk to Hugh.

Part of presenting at conferences involves being around afterwards for questions, so I force myself to exit stage right and linger to see if the participants have anything to discuss. My gaze is locked on a blond head about thirty feet away from me, a couple of rows up, when a young woman appears at my side. She introduces herself as someone working for a Boston institution and asks about a specific pollution statistic. I answer her briefly, giving her Millie’s email in case she has any questions, and send her on her way. I look back up to see if I can spot the blond ahead again, but it’s gone.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Millie:

No f*cking way. HE WAS THERE? HE INTERRUPTED MY (your) PRESENTATION? Are you so happy? TELL ME EVERYTHING. Are you guys talking? AHHHHH

Told you that he can really steal a show. Now do you see why he’s my nemesis?

I smile at my phone, glad she isn’t mad. I type a message back:

Sorry I ad-libbed some of the talk track.

A hand taps me on the shoulder. ‘Got a minute?’

Instinctively, I know it’s Hugh. My insides melt as I turn around. ‘Hi,’ I breathe.

‘Hey.’