‘A good question. Welcome to the set.’

Toby surveys the studio. An overstuffed red velvet sofa sits against the side wall, six professional-looking deckchairs face the kitchen set, and there is at least twice the amount of technical equipment – cameras, microphones, lighting and the like – than previously. ‘This is pretty cool,’ he says.

His gemstone eyes are unreal.

‘Faith is just getting her make-up finished. She won’t be long.’

Toby flashes me a smile. Also, the whitest teeth.

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying, Toby, but your eyes are incredibly striking.’

‘Gorgeously green,’ he replies, right off pat. Of course, it’s me, the self-deprecating Brit, who seems bashful. ‘They’re called “Gorgeously Green”,’ he goes on. ‘They’re contacts, see?’

On closer inspection, Toby’s pupils seem unnaturally sharp around the rims. Does everything look green to him? ‘So they are. Are they strange to look out of?’

‘Not at all.’

When Faith was telling me about the humungous size of Toby’s manhood one afternoon, she hadn’t thought to mention his fake green eyes.

‘Do you wear them regularly?’

‘Hell no.’ Toby laughs heartily. ‘They’re just for the show today, so no one recognises me.’ I smile weakly. It’s a poor disguise. ‘I know, but, hey, they do look good!’

Faith promised I’d be fond of him and I am.

‘Are yours “Brilliantly Blue”?’ he goes on, falling easily into the friendly banter of new lover buttering up oldest best friend. I let loose a small snort of appreciation. ‘No, I’m au naturel.’

Harry materialises. ‘Her eyes are stunning,’ he says. ‘Harrison Hipgrave, Agent to the Stars.’ He extends a hand to Toby.

‘Toby Ellison. Ordinarily, Mergers and Acquisitions. Today, I believe the term is, man-candy.’

Harry laughs loudly. ‘Good to see you have a sense of humour. You’re going to need it with these girls,’ he warns jovially.

Toby laughs raucously.

To me, Harry whispers, ‘Having fun yet?’

I’m having more fun than I thought I would.

No offence to Faith, but if I’d known it would make me this much more relaxed, I’d have got myself a proper agent sooner. Albeit I’m coming over in a bit of a hot flush now. Nerves. God, we’re about to do this.

Harry brushes past me to go and chat with Joanna. His essence lingers. I’ve been trying, but I still can’t place his scent. Definitely more woody than spicy. And not at all citrusy.