“I work to live, Annie. I don’t live to work. I only think of pedicures, skin, and nails when I’m at the salon.” Lizzy joins me on the threshold of my new bedroom. “And don’t change the subject. It’s been one year, two months and one week since you got laid.”
“That’s very accurate of you.”
Lizzy shrugs. “It was my twenty-eighth.”
I remember the night all too well, though his name escapes me.
“Tom,” she prompts, as if reading my mind, turning to me. “Cute rugby player dude. Jason’s friend of a friend.”
Cute rugby player dude’s thighs invade my mind. I smile, remembering the night I met Lizzy’s boyfriend’s friend of a friend, Tom. “He was quite cute, wasn’t he?”
“Very! So why didn’t you see him again?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “There wasn’t anything there.”
“There were thighs!”
I laugh. “You know what I mean. Sparks. Chemistry.”
She scoffs. “Annie, there’s never been sparks for you in the whole time I’ve known you.”
She’s right. When will a man appear and sweep me off my feet? Bamboozle me? Make me think of something other than my career? The only thing that gets my pulse racing is my job.
“Have you sworn off men forever?” Lizzy breaks into my thoughts. “Because Jason has plenty of friends with friends.”
“I got bored of it all. Dating. The stress. The expectations. Nothing ever…clicked for me,” I say dismissively. “Anyway, I’m too in love with my job and my freedom right now.”
Lizzy laughs, genuinely amused as she wanders into the room, peeking into the en suite. “Your freedom is being seriously hampered by an eighty-hour working week.”
“Ninety,” I reply, and she frowns. “I worked ninety hours last week. And I have the freedom to do that.”
“But what about fun stuff?”
“My job is fun,” I retort indignantly. “I get to design beautiful buildings and watch them come to life.”
“I’ve hardly seen you recently,” she grumbles.
“I know. It’s been crazy.”
“Yes, that posh couple in Chelsea have stolen all your time. How’s it going, by the way?”
“Great,” I reply, because it is. But it’s one of the toughest projects I’ve undertaken. It took months of designs and negotiating to finally come to a compromise with the local authorities to build an ultra-modern, eco-efficient home. The hard work was worth every bit of effort. The cube house on the edge of the common has helped me toward the ridiculous deposit I needed for my new home.
“They moved in last Friday.” I make my way to the double doors that lead into the courtyard garden, picturing the small space bursting with green, a cast-iron table and a couple of chairs outside where I can enjoy my morning coffee. “Isn’t this perfect?”
“It’s great,” Lizzy says, following. “Me and Jason seriously need to think about buying rather than renting.”
“Or building.” I waggle a cheeky eyebrow at her. “I know an amazing architect.”
Lizzy scoffs. “We couldn’t afford you.”
I laugh and make my way inside. “Are you going to help me make my bed or not?”
“I’m coming!” she singsongs, shutting the doors behind her.
*
Three hours later, after a trip to the shop to restock on Prosecco, we’ve cleaned, polished, and washed everything in sight, attacking the bathroom, too. The old claw-foot bath is sparkling, and Lizzy unpacked all of my toiletries and cosmetics while I made up my bed. It already feels like home. I peek in the mirror as I pass, seeing my dark hair is a knotted mess atop my head. I yank the hair-tie out and let it tumble over my shoulders, combing my fingers through to rid it of knots. I blink my pale green eyes a few times, something irritating me, as I lean into the mirror to remove a few specks of dust from my lashes.
“Don’t forget we’re out next Saturday,” Lizzy reminds me, tying a black sack as she emerges from the bathroom. “Jason’s on a work thing, Nat is escaping John as he’s got his kid that night, and Micky is…well, he’s always free. So I want no excuses that you have to work.”
I wander to my bed and plump my pillows, pulling back the duvet, ready to fall into it once Lizzy has left. “No excuses,” I confirm.
“Great!” She drops the black sack with the pile of others by the door, brushing off her hands. “And what about your housewarming? We need to christen this place.”
“It’s the Saturday after. I’ve invited a few new clients, too.”
“Does that mean no orgy?”
I laugh. “No orgy.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll take care of snacks. You take care of cocktails.”
“Deal.”
She squeals and throws her arms around me. “It’s perfect, Annie. You’ve worked hard for it.”
“Thanks.” I return her hug, breathing in the scent of the millions of candles we’ve lit.
“How long have you given yourself off work?” she asks, releasing me and collecting her bag from the floor.
“Just the weekend.”
“Wow, you’re pushing the boat out, aren’t you?”
I ignore her sarcasm. “I have to get some drawings finalized for my client’s new art gallery. No rest for the wicked.”
“And no play, either,” Lizzy remarks, grinning a little as she pulls her mobile from her bag. “Great,” she mumbles, looking down at the screen.
“What?”
She shoves it back in her bag and forces a smile. “Jason’s working late again. He was supposed to be picking me up”—she glances down at her watch—“like, now.”
“You can stay, if you like.”
“Nah, I’ll get the Tube. You get to bed.”
She leaves me with a kiss on the cheek and an order to sleep well. I’ve no doubt I will. In my brand-new bed, with brand-new sheets and brand-new duvet, I’m asleep before my head hits the brand-new pillow.
*
I wake the next morning to hard, relentless banging on my front door. Sitting up, I spend a few disorientated moments blinking sleepily as I look around my unfamiliar surroundings.
Bang, bang, bang!
Then my phone starts screeching from under my pillow, followed by more banging, backed up by someone shouting my name. My palms come up to my face and scrub at my cheeks before I feel for my phone and pull it from under the pillows. Micky’s name flashes up at me. Then I register the time. “Oh, shit!” I scramble from under my covers, stumbling my way out of my bedroom.
Bang, bang, bang!
“Okay, okay!” I yell, leaping over a box and crashing into the door. Swinging it open, I come face-to-face with a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed Micky. “Seriously!” I yell, my head drumming with bangs, rings, and shouts.
“Morning, treacle!” He lands a kiss on my cheek and pushes his way past me, oohing and swooning as he starts to explore my new abode. “Nice place!”
I shut the front door and follow him in, frowning at the man-bun he’s sporting. “What’s happened to your hair?” I ask, watching as he inspects every nook and cranny.
“You like?” he asks, reaching behind and feeling at the dark blond bundle. “It’s starting to get in my way when I’m at work.” He kicks a box out of the way and takes a slurp from his Starbucks as he hands me one.