Merry and I were at work, cataloguing new arrivals, and we had the science of talking-whilst-working down to such an art that Mrs Mullhearn couldn’t get mad at our constant yabbering because truthfully, we got more work done the more we talked. We were making short work of the books while I gave Merry all the details about my weekend.

“And how did Angus’ date night go?”

“Well, he has that sated-swagger thing going on and a smile that reminds me of that time we all ate hash brownies and did the Ru Paul’s Drag Race marathon.”

Merry snorted so loud it scared me. “Sorry,” she said with a laugh.

I had my hand to my heart. “Jesus, warn a guy next time.”

“Do you remember that time you, me, and Angus got really drunk on champagne with Midori on Saint Patrick’s Day and Angus bought those space cakes,” she said, still chuckling.

“Oh my God. Last time he ever trusts an Irish guy dressed as a Leprechaun selling four-leaf-clover-shaped edibles,” I said, laughing.

“He was so funny.”

“He’s seeing them again this weekend,” I said. “His couple. They have such a great time with him apparently, they’ve cleared their schedules to do it again.”

“How long has he been seeing them?”

“For six months or so, just whenever the need arises.”

“As long as he’s happy,” Merry said. “And that they treat him right.”

“Mmm,” I agreed. “What about you, Merry? Are you happy?”

“I am.” She put the book she was holding on top of the final pile. “I can live vicariously through you and your new romance, all from the comfort of my couch in my PJs and messy hair. It’s all I need.”

“If you wanted—”

“If you finish that sentence, Jordan O’Neill, I will forever associate you with my mother and her velociraptor colony of people who think I need someone to make myself complete. I am very happily single and free to do whatever the hell I want, whenever I damn well want to.”

I put my hand up in surrender. “Uh, yeah, I was just going to say if you want to come over anytime, I’ll have Angus get some more brownies and we can do a Great British Bake Off marathon and order take out and eat ice cream. From the comfort of our couch in our PJs and messy hair.”

She glared at me and slid the pile of books onto her trolley. “You were not going to say that at all, you lying liar who lies.”

I laughed. “Well, no. I wasn’t. But your mum’s colony of velociraptor people scares the bejeezus out of me.”

“You and me both,” she said, wheeling her trolley to the door. “But that invite might be good for Hennessy to do the meeting-of-friends thing you talked about.”