‘Just think,’ Jane continued, ‘when you’re super famous, and you will be – I know that for sure – you can look back on these days and laugh. You just have to hang in there.’ She reached across the table and squeezed Nicky’s hand, her tan in stark contrast to Nicky’s pale skin. She had her mother’s English complexion to thank for that.

Where would she be without Jane? She’d been her best friend for a decade now. A writer herself, unpublished too, Jane was the only one in Nicky’s circle who truly understood what it was like.

‘And when are you going to finish?’ Nicky said, eager to turn the conversation away from her own failings.

Jane grinned. ‘You can’t rush perfection.’ It was her standard answer whenever Nicky asked about her progress.

‘No. But you can give it a little push along,’ Nicky replied with a laugh.

Mark strode across the room, glass of whisky in one hand. He sat himself between the two women and put his drink down.

‘How are we going, ladies?’ He threw an arm round each one and pulled them towards him. ‘Enjoying the evening?’

Nestled in his shoulder, Nicky drank in his musky scent. ‘Not as much as you, it seems.’ All night he’d worn the biggest grin, his dimples working their magic on everyone around him.

‘Maybe we can work on that,’ he whispered in her ear.

‘Okay. That’s my cue to leave.’ Jane slipped out from under Mark’s arm and stood up.

‘So early?’ Nicky rose, Mark’s hand in the small of her back.

‘We’ll talk next week.’ Jane hugged her tightly. ‘Congratulations, Mark.’

‘Thanks for coming,’ he said. ‘I reckon we might head off too. Just let me say goodbye, princess.’ He kissed Nicky and went off to work the room one last time.

‘Man, you’re lucky.’ Jane said, wistfully. ‘Smart, rich, devastatingly handsome. And totally into you.’

Nicky smiled. She knew how lucky she was the second they’d met. His boss, Mr Gregory, had handled her mum’s will. It wasn’t the sort of thing the firm normally did, especially not for someone with as little to leave behind as Nicky’s ageing mum. But it was a favour for an old friend, apparently. Nicky suspected they were once more than friends, but never asked. She didn’t really want to know. When she came into the office to sign the paperwork, she was awestruck by the lawyer she’d run into in the foyer. Tears were falling down her face as she said her final goodbye to her mum. His kind offer of a handkerchief – who even used handkerchiefs anymore – and offer of a coffee melted her heart. She knew even then that he was the one she wanted to be with.

From across the bar he waved, indicating he was ready to go, and into the cold night air they stepped.