Hannah heard the smile in Zoe’s voice, and she suddenly missed her friend, badly. She wished they could go to a bar and have a brainstorming session over a bottle of wine like they used to after a long day’s work.

‘As far as the hockey player goes, I need to get the thinking cap back on now that he’s feeling agreeable to working with me instead of against me. And I need to make sure I get results, so he remains agreeable.’

Easier said than done though. The joys of choosing a career managing people.

With that, Hannah turned her thoughts to her neighbour.

‘And as far as Ed in P-1 goes … well, I just need to not rock the boat. He’ll be in my rear-view mirror once Courtney’s back in six weeks anyway. Until then, I just need him to not call the cops because he believes I’m breathing too loud.’

Zoe sighed heavily on the other end of the line. ‘Crotchety old grump. I mean, how does a guy like that even live in New York if they don’t want people around them? Seriously, go move out into the country, buy a house in the woods and become a proper hermit like the Unabomber.’

Hannah laughed. ‘Let’s hope he’s nothing like the Unabomber, or even my Rice Krispie buns won’t save me.’

‘So,’ Zoe continued, changing the subject, ‘it’s Friday night. What’s the plan? Any hot dates on the horizon?’

Hannah snorted. ‘Ha. I have more than enough on my plate at the moment.’ But Zoe made a good point. It was the weekend and she didn’t know her colleagues at the New York office well enough yet to socialise with them, plus she was still hesitant about making connections until she could be more confident about what they did or didn’t know about the reason for her transfer.

The idea of returning to the apartment and tiptoeing around in case of upsetting her neighbour didn’t appeal either. Nor did eating alone again. As wonderful as Courtney’s place was, Hannah figured that maybe this week she had at least earned the right not to burn or obliterate another ready meal.

‘Actually, I think I’m going to take myself out,’ she decided on the spot. ‘Have a glass of wine, some nice food and do a bit of brainstorming.’

‘Heard anything from Rob?’ her friend enquired then, her tone changing. ‘You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?’

‘Not a dickie bird,’ Hannah muttered truthfully, still a little unsure how to feel about it.

‘I’m really hoping that’s one of your weird Irish expressions meaning no, otherwise I might just have to fly over to talk some sense into you in person.’

‘Ha. No need for straight-talking on my part. I’m way over all that, honestly.’

Hannah hoped her friend couldn’t tell that she was spinning a tale.