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“How did you know she’s blonde?” I ask, frowning.

He shrugs. “Good guess.” He taps my desk, like he’s trying to find the words, which is completely unusual for Caleb. “You know, it wouldn’t do you any harm to have some fun.”

I lift a brow. “Fun at this time of year? Whatever next? Armageddon?”

Caleb laughs. “Just pointing out that working yourself to the bone isn’t exactly a recipe for future happiness.”

He’s right. I know that. The problem is, I might have forgotten how to have fun.

Then I think to how she made me laugh last night. Maybe I haven’t forgotten completely.

“Right, I’d better go,” Caleb says. “See you tomorrow night. Oh, and good luck with the blonde.”

He strides out of the door and says goodbye to Jess who’s sitting on the other side of the office. She says something back that makes him laugh, before I hear the outer office door close and he’s gone.

I lean back on my desk and tap my fingers against the wood, thinking about his words. About her.

Maybe he’s right. It’s been a long time since I let myself relax. God knows, she’s the first person who’s made me smile that hard in months.

Fucking house cats. Who knew they were such a big thing in the world of relationships?

I stride over to the door and pull it open. “Jess, can you book me a table for dinner?”

“Of course. Here?” she asks, already lifting her phone. “And how many people?”

“For two. And no, not here.” I blink, trying to think of somewhere more discreet. More… I don’t know. Appealing, I guess.

“Where would you take a friend who’s only here for a fortnight?” I ask her. “Somebody who’s never been to London at Christmas before?”

She taps her chin with her finger. “Casual or smart?” she asks.

I blink. I have no idea. “Fun?” Clearly this is new to me as it comes out as a question.

Jess smiles, like she knows exactly what I’m after. “I know just the place. I’ll call them now. Does seven work?”

“Make it eight.” Because I know for a fact she’s out all day. And yes, technically her phone number is in the system, but it doesn’t feel polite to look it up and call her. I’ll leave a message for her with the front desk instead.

“Of course,” Jess murmurs, hitting the keypad on her phone. “Is there anything else?”

I shake my head. “That’s it, thanks Jess.” Then I walk back into my office and let out a low breath.

Dinner. If she wants it, that is. Because I’m intrigued by the fact I can’t stop thinking about her. And maybe if I’m lucky she’ll eat with her fingers or have some other bad habit that will put me off her completely.

Though I’m thinking it’ll have to be pretty bad to achieve that.

GEORGIA

“Nope,” Jennifer says when I call her as soon as the matinee has ended. “There’s no extra charge on my card.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “Check again.”

“I did. Seriously, there’s just the charge for last night. Nothing else, apart from the DoorDash I did this morning because I was feeling sorry for myself and needed chocolate.”

I let out a breath. “How are you feeling?”

“Annoyed because apparently you’re staying in The Hunt Hotel for two weeks and I’m here in Chicago watching Friends on repeat,” she says. “How come you get all the luck? Now, fill me in on what you’ve done today. I’m living vicariously through you right now.”

I tell her about my walk across Waterloo Bridge, then along the river, heading toward the Globe Theatre where I caught a matinee of A Winter’s Tale.