Page 22 of I’m Dreaming of a New York Christmas

But what was the harm in a bit of casual flirting? Goodness knows I was out of practice – if indeed I’d ever been in it. And it wasn’t as if I was ever going to see him again.

Ethan’s grinning face was now almost the same colour as the burgundy beanie he was pulling over his wavy, dark blond hair. He slung on his backpack and placed his headphones over his ears as I did the same with mine. We doffed them in farewell at each other as if they were caps. And then, with the jingle of a bell, he was gone.

Nice guy. Shame he lives thousands of miles away.

I dismissed the thought as soon as it arrived: I was so far off even contemplating another relationship it was untrue, plus he’d more or less confirmed he was already seeing someone.

Better get used to this, Flora – all the good ones will be taken by now.

Oh hi, internalised misogyny. Still, it was good to know I was still able to recognise the glimmer of a potential crush – yet another skill that had gone unpractised for my entire adult life.

My phone buzzed me to attention: finally, it was Mum:

Mum:

WHERE R U?

Flora:

Just heading back. Didn’t you get my note?

Mum:

NO

I sighed and packed my things away, looking forward to the prospect of a kip. I wrapped my mostly uneaten freebie croissant in one of Ethan’s illustrated napkins, enjoying its royal pun once more. As I leaned down to store it in the front pouch of my backpack, I noticed the light around me dim slightly. I looked up, and Ethan was standing there, his glasses in the process of steaming up. He quickly removed them and rubbed them clean with his scarf while talking.

‘Phew, I’m glad you looked up because I didn’t want to scare you by touching you again.’

I slipped my headphones down and crinkled my nose in confusion. ‘So you thought you’d just… stand there?’

‘Ha, yeah. Still weird?’

I looked him in the eye, deadpan. ‘Yep. But “weird” is just another word for “interesting” in my book.’

‘Well, in that case I hope this idea of mine will pique that very interest.’

Where the hell was this going?

My phone trembled again.

Mum:

GET A MOVE ON, WE’LL BE LATE

For fuck’s sake, late for what?

‘Sorry, I’m meant to be somewhere.’

‘Oh, okay, let’s just forget about it, then…’

‘No, no – I’m intrigued. What did you have in mind?’

He put his glasses back on before the words fell out of him like a magician’s endless handkerchief. ‘Sooo… I was wondering if I could commission you to write this damn speech for me? You obviously know your shit and I’ve been literally losing sleep over it.’

‘Oh, I really don’t think I’ll be able…’

‘Please. I’ll pay you whatever your standard rate is. Or more. I just need to get this thing written so I can think about something else and, I dunno, look forward to my brother’s wedding instead of dreading it.’