Page 100 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

‘I’ve got you.’

He swept a wisp of hair out of my eye, though he was staring at my mouth. ‘I know.’

Ethan’s speech – the last of the night after a low-key but delicious dinner of Mexican street food – went down an absolute storm, as I knew it would. But what I wasn’t expecting was for Ethan to give me a shout-out at the end – and for all eyes to be on me as he effectively instructed everyone to procure my services whenever they needed a speechwriter.

Ethan presented Rick and Sinead with their book of cartoons, gave a toast, and returned to his seat next to me to the sound of rapturous applause and whooping.

‘You smashed it,’ I said, as he took his seat next to me.

‘I did, didn’t I? Your face is all red,’ he whispered.

I nudged him in the ribs as he scooched closer. ‘What did you expect? That bit at the end was way too much attention for my liking, mister.’

‘It could have been worse, because I got you a gift, too,’ Ethan said, reaching into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and handing me a long, narrow box. ‘But I figured you wouldn’t want me to give it to you in front of an audience.’

‘You figured correctly. And you really shouldn’t have got me anything, Ethan.’

Although, once I saw what was inside, I was incredibly thrilled he had – it was the fountain pen I’d fallen in love with at the stationery shop.

‘You remembered the exact pen!’

‘Of course! I went back for it this morning. Earned a whole load of ink blots.’

‘It’s… too much.’

‘It really isn’t. I’m loving this, by the way.’

He tapped one of my painted fingernails. My eyes flicked from my hand to his eyes, and I immediately wanted to fast-forward the rest of the evening so we could be in his apartment – this instant.

The moment was interrupted by Elle, the British woman, pulling up a chair next to me and speaking loudly into my ear. This woman could give my landlady’s voice box a run for its money.

‘You didn’t tell me you were a genius speechwriter!’ she said, now keen to talk to me rather than get away from me.

For once, I decided not to bat the compliment away with self-deprecation. ‘I… guess not!’

‘I’m just gonna have a quick biological moment,’ Ethan said, leaving me and Elle to it. Elle’s frown indicated she was confused by his choice of language, but dismissed it with a quick shake of her head.

‘Do you have a business card or anything? I know a few people who keep insisting on giving crappy ChatGPT speeches and could do with a kick up the arse from someone like you.’

I was fast learning that this woman was a leaner-inner, in all senses of the word, never missing an opportunity to network.

‘Not on me, no. But I’ll get Ethan to pass on my details.’

‘Great – I’m not kidding; I reckon I can send a lot of business your way.’

‘Thanks – I appreciate it.’

‘So how do you know Ethan?’

‘Umm, we were strangers until last Friday. I’m here on holiday. I… fly home tomorrow.’

‘You’re shitting me?’

‘Haha, no.’

‘I mean, it’s obvious the two of you are in the early days of a relationship, but I didn’t realise it was that early.’

‘I mean, I’m not sure I’d use the word “relationship”.’