Page 65 of Who’s That Girl?

‘Hey, no worries,’ he says, smiling thinly.

‘I’ve got a tissue.’ Lottie pulls one out of her bag and starts dabbing his crotch eagerly as he frowns at the puddle of cider collecting at his feet.

‘Hey, can you clear this up?’ he hollers to a barman who’s collecting glasses from a table nearby.

‘’Scuse me?’

As he turns, I see it’s the same barman from the other night.

‘Oh gosh, no, I’ll do it – it was my fault,’ I begin quickly, but Billy Romani stops me.

‘That’s his job,’ he says cheerfully. ‘Right, man?’

I notice the barman’s jaw clench. ‘That’s right.’ He smiles pleasantly and, grabbing a cloth, mops up the spillage. ‘Accident, huh?’ He winks, catching me watching.

‘Um … yeah, absolutely.’ I nod, colouring up as he walks away.

‘Would you like another drink?’

I turn back to Billy, who’s speaking to Lottie. But I’m undeterred.

‘Yes, please,’ I answer loudly. ‘I’ll have a vodka tonic.’ Not that I’m drinking, I’m driving, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that men hate nothing more than having to buy ‘the friend’ a drink. ‘And can you make it a large one?’ I smile sweetly.

He throws me a smile that’s tighter than his leather trousers. ‘And for you?’ As he turns to Lottie, his smile transforms into one that Larry Thompson would be proud of.

She blushes bright red. ‘Um … yeah, a cider, please.’

‘Coming right up.’ He smiles again and gets up.

As soon as he’s gone, she turns to me excitedly. ‘So what do you think?’

That he’s going to sleep with you, promise you the world, then let you down, I want to cry, but it’s like it says in How to Be a Good Friend – it’s important to be diplomatic when a friend asks for your opinion. Plus I don’t want to look like a total fruit-loop.

So instead I go for a more tactful approach with an ambivalent, ‘Hmm.’

‘What?’ She frowns in consternation.

‘Oh, nothing.’ I shrug.

Which of course is the sure-fire way to make her insist I tell her.

‘No, go on,’ she cajoles.

‘Well, I didn’t want to say anything …’

‘No, tell me,’ she demands, pressing me for more. Just like I hoped she would.

‘It’s just he’s got a really bad reputation.’

Lottie looks at me with both alarm and disbelief. ‘That’s probably just people being jealous,’ she replies after a moment’s pause.

I hesitate. I’m aware I’m treading a fine line here. I want to warn her off, but I don’t want her thinking it’s because I’m after him for myself.

‘Believe me when I say I’ve known guys exactly like him, and trust me, he’s no good.’

She looks crestfallen. ‘But he seems really cool.’

‘He thinks he’s really cool,’ I correct her. ‘There’s a difference. You need to go out with someone who’s going to love you, not themselves. Who understands you, who really, truly gets you.’ All at once my mind returns to Miles and our conversation about the fireplace. God, what is it about that stupid fireplace? It’s not like it’s super-important or anything. ‘Someone you can trust not to let you down,’ I add quickly. Because for all Miles’s faults, I know I can always depend on him and, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, that’s really important.