‘Of course! I booked a huge table. Who do you want to bring?’

‘Laura here.’

Laura, her habitual shyness coming back in a rush, felt totally thrown. ‘No. No really, I can’t come. It’s terribly kind of you to ask me. But there’s so much to do here.’ Never in the three years she’d been organising bookshop events had she been to dinner with the author afterwards. Her place was in the background, making things happen. It was where she felt most comfortable. Talking to a whole lot of strangers was not her thing. ‘I’ve got to help clear up. Wash the glasses, get rid of the chairs . . .’

‘Don’t move!’ said Eleanora firmly and strode off in the direction of Henry.

‘You’d better not move,’ the publicist advised. ‘She’s known as the Vixen in the trade. Easier to do what she says, really. I’m Emma, by the way, Emma Bennet.’

‘But I can’t imagine why she would want to ask me to dinner.’

‘Maybe she enjoyed your company?’ Emma smiled, amused by Laura’s incredulity at this suggestion.

Laura could see Eleanora, followed by Henry and her colleague Grant, coming over to where she and Emma were chatting.

‘She’s got reinforcements,’ muttered Emma. ‘You’ve got no chance.’

Both her boss and her colleague came to a halt.

‘You know perfectly well none of this would have happened without your very hard work,’ said Henry, who was tall, balding and distinguished-looking. If he hadn’t been forty years older than her and married already, Laura would have fancied him. ‘You go and have a nice dinner. You’ve earned it. Grant and I will clear up.’

‘But really . . .’ She bit her lip. Panic that she was going to be taken out of her comfort-zone, aka the bookshop, made her look urgently at her friend.

Grant, interpreting her expression, shook his head, determined that she should take this opportunity to mingle with people other than her colleagues for a change. ‘That’s right,’ he said firmly. ‘You go and enjoy the ball. Cinderella here will clear up after this one.’ He put his hand on her forearm. ‘Have a great time and tell me all the goss tomorrow. And don’t forget, we’re going to the Sisters of Swing gig tomorrow?’

‘Oh yes.’ She clutched at his arm for a moment.

‘Go on! You’ll be fine!’ Grant, the only other full-time member of staff and her closest colleague, gave her hand an encouraging pat. He was on a you-must-get-out-more mission with Laura and was taking her to a club to hear ‘an incredible new girl band’. He teasingly described her as his ‘beard’, which made her laugh. Nothing and no one could make Grant look anything other than openly gay. But he did have her best interests at heart and she knew he was right and that she should go.