“Well, they’ll be turning him into a toad if he spills any more beans.”
Harry laughs, and I turn to her. “I do need to say thank you. But for Fiona and her humongous eyelashes, Harry and I might still just be workmates.”
She smiles. “You’re very welcome.” She pauses. “Oh my god, I remember her properly now. I think I had a thing for eyelashes at that point in my career. She fluttered them more than Joan Collins in the entirety ofDynasty.”
I laugh. “Could I possibly get your autograph?”
She shoots a funny look at Harry that I can’t interpret, but before I can question him, she rummages in her bag and produces a leather notebook. After tearing off a piece of paper, she scrawls something on it and then hands it to me.
I lift it up to read, but before I can see what she’s written, Harry snatches it off me. “What the hell?” I say.
“Read it at home,” he says quickly.
“You’re very odd sometimes. Did you know that?”
“Just sometimes?”
I grin at him. “The rest of the time you’re very sweet.”
“Ugh,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “How disgusting.”
Frida’s companion comes towards us, and I grin down at Frida. “Thank you again. You not only gave Fiona and Jared a happy ever after, but you also gave us one too.”
Her face softens. “Good luck. Tell me what you say.”
“Pardon?” She doesn’t get the chance to answer, because Harry’s taken my arm and is towing me across the room in a determined manner that I usually only see when he’s trying to get me out of shops.
Harry opens the front door,and I wander into the flat, turning on lights as I go. They illuminate the boxes and packing crates that are strewn everywhere.
“Bloody hell, I don’t even know where my clothes are,” I observe.
Harry drops a kiss on my shoulder as he moves past. “Just look for the biggest packing crate.”
“Are you saying I’m a clothes horse?”
“Not at all.”
“Thank you.”
“One horse couldn’t possibly carry the weight of your underwear drawer, let alone the rest of your wardrobe.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Are you dissing my pants?”
“Darling, of course not. They’re one of the main sources of my pleasure.”
“I was thinking I might do some unpacking, but I don’t think I can be bothered,” I confess.
“Leave it for tonight. We’ll get started in the morning.”
He makes his way up the stairs, and I follow him, taking the time to ogle his bottom.
“That sounds like a good plan,” I say. “I’ll have a shower instead.”
He edges around some boxes and into the bathroom, and I follow him. As he begins brushing his teeth, I lean against the door and smile at him.
He pauses, gripping his toothbrush in one hand. “You’re making me nervous, Fifi.”
I roll my eyes. “Do you think you’ll ever not call me that?”
