“Thanks, babes!”
Tiff flops herself down on one of the huge plush sofas, and nods with approval. Her voice is loud enough that Josh will be able to hear her, too.
“Jesus, this is way, way better than the pics you sent from before! Fuck, you guys were holed up in a pigeon coop. I’d have barely fit my butt in that shower room, let alone the shower itself.”
“I didn’t mind being pigeon cooped up with Ells,” Josh says, poking his head through the door. “It was cosy.”
“Cosy?! Yeah, sure,” she replies. “Very, very cosy.”
I laugh. “You’re right about the shower room. It was tiny. No way we were fitting two of us in there for any shower play. Not a chance.”
I adore her cackle.
“Not surprised. Like I said, I doubt I’d have fitted the one of me in there. My clients wouldn’t have been too happy with my lack of personal hygiene, that’s for certain.” She winks. “Take that back, actually. Some of them would have beenveryhappy about it. I could have charged extra.”
She laughs again and pats the seat next to her and I plonk my butt as close to hers as I can. We have another hug, and she whispers aso, so, so pleased you’re alrightinto my hair.
“So am I,” I tell her as I pull away. “I didn’t think I would be, honestly. All I felt was doom. I thought my days at The Agency were gone.”
Josh returns from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and three glasses.
“And what did I say, huh?” She looks right at me. “I said there was no way they’d let you go. No way! You’re a hardcorer. The best of the best. An asset.”
My cheeks burn in fresh awe of her. These days I have a weird sense of imposter syndrome when it comes to the power crew. My achievements feel so far away.
“I’ll never be the best of the best,Creamgirl.The competition is too damn stiff for that.”
“Whatever,” she says. “You need to check out your five stars. Get some of your horny mojo back.”
Josh hands us both a glass of wine. We raise a toast tous, and Tiff wants to know how we’re doing. How we are, face to face, rather than over video call. And I get it. I feel the same. It’s a whole other league of closeness in person. We’ve spoken plenty on video and been pinging back on forth on messages constantly, but her presence was missing. Her energy didn’t boom through the room and set us alight like it does now she’s here.
I tell her about the heartache of having the rug pulled out from under my feet, and the tumble of nightmares in the aftermath. The guilt at Josh having to be with me through the crazy lows, holding my hand and ensuring me I was going to be ok. That we’d make it through it. That he wouldn’t be going anywhere.
Josh jumps in during my recount. “The guilt you felt was totally unnecessary. We’d make it through anything, me and you. I’d always be there, no matter how rough it got.”
Tiff raises her eyebrows. “Lucky that, since it got pretty fucking rough there for you guys. Hats off to thelovelyConnorPreston for carrying on his cuntish behaviour, though. Thank fuck he’s such a prick, chucking up waves of bullshit every other direction he turns.”
Another cackle, and she takes a swig of wine.
I nod, smiling. “I owe Katie Del Francis athank youcard. She can keep Connor for ever. Good luck to her. She’ll need it, even if she is a mean girl bitch herself.”
Tiff looks between me and Josh at that, one to the other. Her eyes are wide, mouth open.
“Katie Del Francis keeping Connor for ever? What the fuck? Have you two even been online today?”
Josh pulls a face. “Not really, no. In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve been in the middle of a house move.”
She rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock, but still. Everyone has time for a bit of scrolling, don’t they? And it must be the first thing that would come up on your feed.”
I’m as blank as Josh is. I’ve barely looked at my phone today, and haven’t been scrolling.
“Here, take a look,” she says, and pulls her own phone from her bag. Her new black nail extensions are covered in red leopard print, and look fucking epic. I compliment her on them, but she doesn’t even notice, just taps away on her screen.
Then she turns the phone to face us, one after the other.
The headline jumps out a mile off.
