‘Oh, I don’t know, Vanessa,’ he says, nodding to the waitress as she departs. ‘I just feel like I’m the one doing all the giving. I helped you nail the US presentation, I sat up all night helping you come up with straplines for the new lipstick campaign, I helped you draft that tricky email when you had to let the new intern go, and I don’t mind giving you a hand, but tonight was just as important to me. I’ve been working on the branding for UC Boxing for months now and I’d never been to a fight before. It was something I wanted to see, wanted to experience, so I could translate that into the branding. And I’m sorry you didn’t enjoy it but there are times we have to do things we don’t like because life’s not all glitter and powder and lipstick.’

I ignore the dig at my choice of career and let him continue.

‘I thought you would be more supportive, that’s all,’ he says, pausing to take a sip of wine. ‘Particularly after all the help I’ve given you. But you’re just like the rest of them.’

‘The rest of them?’ I say, feeling my cheeks burning.

‘Women are wonderful,’ he says, smiling. ‘I was raised by a single mother. I love them to death but there are just some things they’ll never understand. Sam was exactly the same when I took her to a fight.’

He stops then, aware that he’s let something slip.

‘Who’s Sam?’ I say, feeling the wine in my bloodstream.

‘Oh, just a woman I used to know,’ he says, waving his hand dismissively.

‘A girlfriend?’

‘Girlfriend is a bit generous,’ he says with a frown. ‘I mean, she was more like a … well, it was just a physical thing with Sam. She was a bit of a psycho if truth be told.’

‘But I thought you hadn’t seen a live fight before,’ I say, my body tensing.

‘No, I said I hadn’t seen a UC fight before,’ he says, raising his hand to beckon the waitress. She catches his eye and is by his side in a matter of moments.

‘Another, please,’ he says, gesturing to the empty Rioja bottle. ‘Thanks.’

She smiles and leans across him to take the bottle. When she has gone he sits forward and clasps my hands.

‘Listen, let’s not waste any more of this evening talking about exes,’ he says, squeezing my fingers tightly. ‘I know you get paranoid about other women, like the text from Sara the other day, but you have to understand that it’s you I love, okay? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m bursting for a pee.’

He laughs then jumps up from the table and heads across the bar to the loos.