“Champagne?” Fiona asked as she leaned over the bar, trying to get the attention of the barman.

I would have preferred beer, but champagne was sort of mandatory in this situation.

“You are totally going to get partnership now.” She grinned at me. I was relieved that there wasn’t a hint of jealousy or resentfulness about her. She really was a great girl.

“I can only hope.” I shrugged.

“You know you’re going to get it. Apparently the vote is next week. This settlement couldn’t have been timed more perfectly. You deserve it.”

I grinned and grabbed the champagne-filled ice bucket. Fiona took the glasses, and we made our way to a spot toward the front of the bar. Despite it being the middle of the afternoon, there were plenty of people filling the tables.

“We shouldn’t be drinking when everyone else is back at their desks. It feels naughty,” Fiona said in a half whisper.

My stomach churned. It did feel wrong in some ways, uncomfortable. The person I wanted to celebrate with was Ashleigh. I felt as though I should be with her, not Fiona. I needed to stop pining, to do what she said and live my life. “Day drinking always feels illicit, right?”

“I can’t stop for long. I have a thing tonight.” She tilted her head.

I raised my eyebrows in response. Did she have a date? Fiona, at least, was living her life.

“In fact, I shouldn’t be drinking. I’m babysitting. Well, my nephew’s twelve, so hardly a baby.”

“So no hot date for you, then?”

“Not tonight,” she replied.

I wondered why she was single. She was pretty, smart and had abs of steel. The kind of girl they called marriage material. Ashleigh had told me to date, right? “Would you like to go to dinner sometime?” It wasn’t what I’d been planning to say, but now that I had, I hoped she’d say yes.

She narrowed her eyes at me.

I’d not asked a woman out for years. In fact, I didn’t think I’d ever asked Emma out. We just found ourselves in the same circle of friends a few times, and we kind of evolved from a drunken kiss. It felt like a lifetime ago. I’d been a kid. I’d thought for a few weeks that Fiona might like me, but her reaction to my invitation wasn’t overwhelming. “I mean, no big deal if you don’t want to. I just thought—”

“No. That sounds good. Like on a date?”

Was I about to make a giant twat of myself? I shrugged. “Yeah.”

Her cheeks flushed and she nodded. “Okay. Dinner.”

If only everything in my life could be as easy.

Ashleigh

“I’m sick of feeling so fucking miserable. I’ve totally lost my funny.” I took a seat at Beth’s kitchen counter and collapsed forward dramatically. Beth had asked for some help with a project, and I was happy to have the company.

“You’ve not lost your funny. You’re hilarious,” Beth responded.

“I used to be funny. I used to be able to make people laugh. Now, I’m a harbinger of doom. Wherever I go, I bring misery.”

“Now, you’re being funny, even if it is unintentional.”

I grinned. It was entirely intentional. I was ready to be me again. I’d had enough of moping around the house and avoiding Luke. Well, avoiding Luke had been made easy. He hadn’t been in touch. Not since the Sunday Haven and Jake had been in Chicago. That was over a month ago. I’d gone to Sunday night dinner the following weekend, but according to Haven, Luke was working. I’d not seen him since I’d run out on him.

“So you want to watch me get drunk?” I asked Beth.

“How can I resist an offer like that? But first can you help me with this?” Beth asked, gesturing behind me with the wooden spoon she was holding.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw a camera set up on a tripod facing our direction. What the what? I turned back to watch Beth pour honey into a mixing bowl. “Errr, excuse me, however much you’re offering? I’m not filming us naked with honey doing . . . God knows what.”

“Oh, I’m not going to pay you.”

“Well, I’m certainly not doing it for free.” I laughed. “What I mean to say is, not in front of a camera. And not with you. No offense, you’re gorgeous and you have a banging bod, but no. I like dick. I mean, I’ve never . . . not on camera, and not with honey—”

“Really?” Beth was looking at me as if I were totally crazy.

“I’ve lost control of my mouth.”

“You really have. Calm down. No one is getting naked.”

“Okay, so what’s going on?”

“I don’t want you to tell Jake, but I need you to set up the camera for me. I thought I might film myself bake and then put it on the Internet. I’ll film it tomorrow, but I thought you could set up the camera for me and I could leave it there until I’m ready.”

“Oh, that’s easy. I have to say I’m slightly disappointed. I thought my horizons were about to be broadened.”

“By my banging bod? Thanks for that, by the way.” She lifted her shoulder, playfully flirting.

“You’re welcome.” I grinned. There was a knock at the door and Beth went to answer it. I heard Haven chattering away in the hall. She and Beth lived in the same building. I probably should have told Haven when I arrived. I hoped she wasn’t mad I hadn’t.

“Hello, gorgeous. Room for a third?” she asked when she saw me.

I pulled her into a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

“I feel like you’ve divorced me. I’ve not seen you in weeks.”

“I’m sorry. I wanted Luke to have a chance to come to Sunday dinner, and that didn’t seem likely if I was going, so . . .”

“Well, he’s divorced me too. I’ve not seen him for weeks, either. How come when you two try and avoid each other, I end up missing you both? I wish you’d sort it out. He’s running today, apparently. A fun run.”

“Sounds like an oxymoron. Is he with Fiona?”

“I think so. It’s her running club or something.”

My stomach pinched. It had been raining all day. It was too easy to imagine him soaked to the skin and miserable, then peeling off his wet clothes, revealing his harder than hard body, his toned abs, his thick arms as he pulled me into the shower . . . My thoughts of him were endless, but somehow against all odds, I’d resisted the temptation to call him. He needed time to work out what he wanted. Maybe that was Fiona.

“Anyway,” I said, elongating the word like a six-year-old. “I’m trying to get my funny back.”

“You need wine for that,” Haven said, rummaging in her bright pink Longchamp Le Pliage. “Sorry, Beth. Sober works for you, but not for this one.” She lifted her chin and pulled out a bottle of wine. “It’s already chilled.”

I looked between Beth and Haven. I’d drunk in front of Beth before, but never in her house. “Is this okay with you? I was joking when I asked you about watching me get drunk.”

“Of course. It’s totally fine, although, if you catch me taking a swig, then we’ve got problems.” She winked.

I shook my head. “Haven, no, put it away.”

“She’s joking. Aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.” Beth grinned. “Other people drinking isn’t a problem. It’s my drinking that’s the problem.”

Beth always seemed so wise beyond her years. She’d been through a lot and it showed—not because she looked tired or bitter but because she radiated a confidence that’s only gained through experience.

“Actually, can you just position that camera while you’re still sober?” Beth asked me as Haven found some wineglasses.

I hopped off my stool and went over to the camera.

“Should I ask about the camera?” Haven was frowning. “I mean, whatever you’re into, there’s no judgment here. In fact, I’m planning on filming myself for Jake while he’s in—”

“There are some things you don’t need to share,” Beth said, covering her ears.

“Hmmm, not true,” I replied. “Tell me more.”