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“That won’t help. I’ll still be as pregnant there as I am here!” She covered her face with her hands as she was overtaken with inconsolable weeping.

Right, well, unplanned pregnancy was definitely not in my wheelhouse. I poked my head out of the kitchen, intent on summoning another woman to help. The first person I saw was Elizabeth, because of course.

“Elizabeth, could I have a moment of your time, please?”

She halted in her tracks and gave me an odd look, half amusement, half alarm. “In there?”

“Please.” I opened the door enough that she could see Fiona. Her eyes widened, and she hastened past me, going straight to her friend and drawing her into a hug. I caught her eyes over Fiona’s shoulder and gestured that I would leave them to it. She smiled briefly in acknowledgement and returned to soothing her friend.

I closed the door behind me and blew out my cheeks. That hadn’t been quite the distraction from work I’d anticipated. And I still had no coffee. After a quick look at my watch, I sighed and headed out through reception and down to Quick Bite to buy one there instead. When I came back upstairs, the kitchen door was still closed. I assumed both women had gone their separate ways, but as I passed by, I heard the low murmur of Elizabeth’s voice, followed by laughter. It was feminine, but it wasn’t hers, so it must have been Fiona’s, and Elizabeth the cause.

I felt a frisson of wonder. How did a person turn anguished sobs into laughter? I’d been on the verge of summoning someone from HR for a workplace intervention—a rather colder solution than whatever magic Elizabeth had evidently woven. I ought not to be surprised; she’d worked a similar spell on me in the Wig and Gavel on Friday, refusing to be intimidated by my reserve and drawing me effortlessly into conversation I was usually loath to provide.

Hearing Fiona’s restored cheer made me glad that I’d decided against mentioning “Billy” to Bingley. When I first met Elizabeth, I had worried her affection for my friend was disingenuous, but the more we interacted, the more I saw of her compassion, and the less sure I was that she was capable of disloyalty. Perhaps this Billy was just a friend. For Bingley’s sake, I hoped so.

The coffee didn’t help me get my head back into my work when I returned to my desk. I’d reread the same page three times when someone knocked on my office door, and I happily clicked the page closed as I called for whoever it was to come in.

There was no denying the leap of pleasure my insides took when Elizabeth poked her head into my office.

“Can I have a quick word?”

“Of course.”

She caught her hip on the door handle as she came in, sending the door swinging away from her and rebounding on its hinges to hit her a second time. Before I knew what I was doing, I was on my feet, going to her. With no clue what I meant to do when I got there, I stopped in front of my desk and stood awkwardly, waiting for her to speak. What was wrong with me?

She acknowledged the incident with nothing but an exasperated grunt and didn’t appear to notice my absurd reaction, her eyes and then her feet going immediately to the windows. “Wow, that’s a view and a half!”

I followed her there, perching a few feet away from her against the edge of the meeting table. “Being on the thirty-sixth floor has its advantages.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she replied archly. “I can’t see any windows from my lowly little corner. Is that Alexandra Palace?”

The afternoon sun was lighting up her dark eyes, revealing the edges of her contact lenses, the striations of gold in her irises, and a microcosm of the London skyline reflected in each cornea. It was as though I’d caught a glimpse of the inner workings of an intricate and beautiful machine.

I forced myself to follow her gaze to the horizon. “It is. And those are the Chiltern Hills, and that way, the Hertfordshire countryside.”

“Really? All this time I’ve worked here, and I never knew I could practically see home.”

Her comment confused me until I remembered she was a contractor from Hertfordshire-based Lucas GreenTech. I wondered what she and Bingley intended to do when her contract was up. Then I wished I hadn’t, because thinking about them as a couple with long-term plans had me feeling peevish.

I crossed my arms. “What did you want to speak to me about?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. I’m here at Fiona’s request. She’s too embarrassed to speak to you herself.”

“She needn’t be.”

“No?” She wrinkled her nose doubtfully. It was adorable. “She did blurt out something super personal to her boss’s boss’s boss. I think I’d be mortified too.”

“Tell her I’ll do my best to forget it ever happened.”

“Great, since she also asked me to ask you not to mention it to anyone.”

“That goes without saying.”

“Even to HR? Because she hasn’t even told the father yet.”

“She’s not legally obliged to divulge it for months yet, and nobody, including HR, will hear the news from me. Please tell her not to worry.”

“Thank you.” She regarded me intently as she added, “Fiona said you were really kind to her. She asked me to thank you.”