Jenny lets out an uncomfortable sound and makes a strange gooey face. She is what the media would refer to as a hot mess. Previous conversations have revealed that she is single and childfree. She is about forty-five. She wears clothes that don’t suit her, too trendy. The heels are too high. Middle-aged fashion victims rarely look good. If you’re not dressing for yourself by forty-five then you need to have a major rethink. My shirt and jeans might not be fashionable, but I am extremely comfortable. Jenny reeks of a woman who never worked herself out. I, on the other hand, know exactly who I am. Chubby, married and gagging for a shag.

‘Oh my God, sorry,’ pipes up Risky, not exercising my calm and collected skills. ‘Sorry, I just …’ She doesn’t finish her sentence, she just hugs Lauren awkwardly, then shakes Gavin’s hand before giving him a kiss on the cheek and apologising around sixteen times for being so nervous. Jenny rolls her eyes at her. I smile and retain my cool.

Gavin is a huge name in British finance. Chairman of Riley Ltd, he inherited a multi-million-pound empire when his father died suddenly at fifty-three. Gavin is young, gorgeous and very rich. He’s been renowned in the City ever since he was old enough to work, but he became a household name when he appeared as a ‘Dragon’ on the TV show Dragons’ Den. Now every woman in the UK’s fantasy, he is as famous for being sexy as he is rich. Through some family connection, I presume, he met the lesser-known Lauren Pearce, an underwear model. They are getting married, and now Lauren has been catapulted into the world of major celebrity. I get the impression she doesn’t really know what to do with it. For now, her unique selling point is definitely her body.

‘Massive fan of the show,’ Risky says to Gavin. ‘My mum is obsessed. For Christmas she got me one of those reading lights with the speakers that you invested in.’

‘Oh, that’s great. Yes, View-Voice is a great company, people love them,’ Gavin says, obviously quite used to these interactions.

‘You should make a video for your mum,’ Lauren says, seemingly very comfortable with Risky’s worshipping of her husband.

‘What? You would do that?’ I don’t know if I’m …’

‘Of course, what’s your name?’ Gavin asks.

‘Risky.’

‘Risky? That’s cute,’ Gavin says, causing Risky to buckle at the knees and blush like she’s had a bowl of tomatoes squashed into her face. I have noticed that celebrities call their fans ‘cute’ a lot. It’s endearing but establishes rank. You would never call someone you admire cute, would you? Risky is delighted with it.