“How old are you?”
“I’m twenty-nine. What about you?”
“I’m twenty-five. What is your star sign?”
“Well, I was born on twenty-third July, so a Leo.”
Esme didn’t say anything, but Libby saw her shake her head.
“Is that bad?” Libby glanced over at Dylan; he was looking forward, but she could tell he was trying not to smile.
“And what music do you like?” Esme said, ignoring Libby’s question.
“Oh, all sorts of things. Nina Simone. Stevie Wonder.”
Esme let out a small groan. “Do you like the Buzzcocks? The Vibrators? The Slits?” She was watching Libby, who felt herself getting hot.
“No, not really. Sorry.”
Esme turned to Dylan. “This is never going to work.”
He couldn’t hide his amusement anymore. “All right, Katie Couric, go easy on her.”
“You two have nothing in common, so she can’t be your girlfriend.”
The grin disappeared from Dylan’s face, and he suddenly looked flustered. “Hang on a sec. Libby’s not my—”
“What will you talk about?” Esme said, cutting him off. “Your star signs don’t match and she doesn’t like your music.” She turned back to Libby, oblivious to Dylan’s discomfort. “When I met my fiancé, I had a list of questions I asked him on our first date. You want a boyfriend who likes the same things as you.”
Libby couldn’t help but smile at the young woman’s concerned expression. “I think that’s excellent advice.”
“I’ve told Dylan this, but he never listens. It’s no surprise he can’t find a girlfriend.”
Libby saw Dylan wince and had to laugh. “He’s lucky to have you to help him, Esme.”
“He is.” She smiled at Libby for the first time, her eyes sparkling. “But he needs a girlfriend so he doesn’t get lonely when I’m married.”
“I don’t know how I’m going to manage,” Dylan said, smiling as he shook his head.
“And you need new clothes,” Esme said. “If you want a nice girlfriend, you need to wear some color. Not just black.”
Esme looked at Libby expectantly, clearly confident she’d found an ally in her campaign.
“I think Dylan should dress however makes him happy,” Libby said diplomatically. “But a little bit of color wouldn’t do any harm now and then.”
“See!” Esme said, turning to Dylan. “It’s a shame about you and Libby. I like her.”
Dylan chuckled. “What would I do without you, hey?”
Libby watched Dylan and Esme chatting away, the warmth and affection between them obvious.
“Libby only moved to London a few weeks ago,” Dylan told Esme as they rode down Portland Place, at which point the young woman took it upon herself to be Libby’s tour guide for the rest of the journey, pointing out important sights along the way.
“This is Piccadilly Circus. Dylan and I had lunch in the Rainforest Cafe here.”
“This is Horse Guards Parade, where the soldiers practice marching.”
“This is the River Thames. We took a boat along it to Greenwich.”
