I roll my eyes. ‘Please don’t call me that, or I’ll call you.’ Why don’t many words rhyme with Noah? ‘Or I’ll think of something!’

‘Just call me Mr Wonderful. Now come on, hurry up and get your knickers off,’ he looks at his watch, ‘we’ve got a lot to cram in.’

Rach chuckles, I glow like a well-prepared barbecue, and Noah takes a sip of coffee.

‘Not too scary, remember? You’re far too big a personality to need red. Red is for the meek and mild.’

‘Really? That doesn’t sound right! Nobody meek would wear …’

‘Pink. Believe me.’ His voice has a firm edge; it sounds pretty seductive actually. He takes a step closer and studies me with a dark, smoky gaze that makes me feel a bit topsy-turvy. He puts a finger under my chin, so that I can’t help but stare back into his eyes. ‘You’ve still got to be you, Rosie. Honestly, this isn’t about me getting my kicks from knowing you’ve got new knickers, it’s about you feeling good. Don’t sexy knickers make you feel, well, sexy? Pampered?’

I nod. My vocal cords don’t seem to be working.

He makes me feel sexy. Pampered. He makes me feel like what I want, who I am, matters.

‘Good.’ His voice has a husky edge that makes me shiver inside.

We stare at each other for a moment. My throat is parched. ‘Pink?’ I dampen my dry lips.

‘Pink.’ Oh my, how can a voice be that sexy?

My heart is hammering, and his eyes seem to be getting darker by the second.

I can imagine his finger sliding down my neck, straying along my breastbone. There’s a prickle of awareness down my spine and I can practically feel the heat of his touch.

I want to flap my top and let some air in, but I can’t move.

Oh my God, what if he kisses me now?

‘Good, great, glad we go that sorted out. I’ll wait outside.’ He nods, then rather abruptly breaks eye contact, spins round and heads towards the bench, pausing to look over his shoulder. ‘Tell me when you’ve picked.’ The soft tone has gone, we’re all business again, and I feel strangely abandoned.

It’s weird, like he’s thrown a bucket of cold water over things. Just as I was starting to get into the whole sexy undies thing. Rach is an expert though, she knows just what will work.

‘What have you done to him?’

‘Er, nothing. We’re not going out, we’re friends, kind of.’ Why did I start this? It’s far too complicated to explain but I need to make that clear. I am not a girlfriend he is treating to new knickers that he will enjoy ripping off. I am also not investing in a brothel. I am investing in a makeover that other men will benefit from.

I am investing in me. I try on the pink undies. They caress my skin, boost my boobs and make me feel, well, special.