“Don’t be late.”
He laughs, a pretty sound that fills the air and vibrates through me, igniting happy thoughts. “I’ll try not to be.”
I narrow my eyes and fix him with a stern stare. “Don’t be late,” I repeat in a deeper, more authoritative tone.
He lowers his gaze, hiding his eyes with his long lashes. “I won’t be.”
“Good.”
With nothing left to discuss, he gathers his things up and leaves. Halfway through finishing my coffee, my phone pings. Hamish—a joint friend of mine and Cal’s—has sent a message to our group chat. It’s most unlike him. He prefers to ring.
Hamish:Is anyone up for a drink?
More messages pop up beneath his.
Cal:Definitely. When and where?
Hamish:Tonight?
Spence:I can’t, sorry. I’m working.
Spence completes our merry group of four. We all met at a local munch a few years back, started talking, and then discovered that Hamish held monthly kink parties. We’ve been friends ever since. We all go to Hamish’s parties, of course, but we also meet up for a more casual drink. Unfortunately, Spence can’t always make the parties or the pub, as his work hours shift.
Cal:You’re always working.
Spence:The joys of being an A&E doctor.
Gabe:You’re coming on Friday, though, right?
Spence:Yes. I’ve already RSVP’d. Which reminds me. You’ve gotanothernew PA, Hamish?
Hamish:This one’s actually good.
Gabe:Does that mean you’re keeping him around for more than ten seconds?
I’m guessing Hamish’s new PA is the person who emailed me the invitation to Friday’s party. I frown as I recall his name from the email—Archie Morris. He and Blake have the same surname; what an odd coincidence.
Hamish:Ha fuckin’ ha. I don’t go through PAs that fuckin’ fast.
Spence:You keep telling yourself that.
Cal:I’ve lost track. Are you coming on Friday or not, Spence?
Spence:I’ll be there.
Cal:Excellent. Now, back to tonight. I’m in, and Spence is out. What about you, Gabe?
Gabe:Count me in.
Cal:Great. We just need to know when and where, Hamish.
I sip my coffee and watch my phone screen. Cal’s name appears with three little dots beside it, bobbing up and down like a mini Mexican Wave.
Cal:Hamish? When and where?
Hamish:Oh. My local. Seven?
That gives me time to go home and have something to eat.
