Page 14

“Hear me out,” said Mo, putting their pencil down. “When we went to that big Expo I saw an ice sculptor.”

“Ice sculptures are so ten years ago,” said Ellie, sitting down.

“Right, but I wasn’t as much interested in the result as I was in the process,” said Mo. “Like the actual sculptor making the thing, it was fascinating to watch.”

“Huh, I hadn’t actually thought about that,” said Ellie.

There was the sound of someone clearing their throat. Ellie and Mo looked up and Carys was edging toward the door. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you both later then, I suppose. I’ll, um, I’ll just be going.” She slid out of the door and closed it softly behind her.

“What’s up with her?” asked Ellie.

Mo looked thoughtfully at the door. “She’ll be alright,” they said eventually. “Now, about that sculptor.”

CARYS DIDN’T REAPPEAR until almost four o’clock, but when she did she looked a lot better than she had that morning.

“Did you just nap at your desk?” Mo asked her.

Carys stuck her tongue out. “Might have done.”

Mo groaned. “You’re lucky you don’t have a slave driver of a boss around.”

“Hey, you know I’m sitting right here, don’t you? And this was your own fault. No one made you stay out late. In fact, I have a distinct memory of telling you that you might want to think about going home.”

“There’s no point living for tomorrow,” Mo said. “Right Carys?”

Carys sniffed and flopped into the spare chair opposite Mo’s desk. “Right. It was a good night, actually.”

“She’s right,” said Mo. “You should get out more, it’s importantto socialize and relax.”

“No, thank you, I’m perfectly fine the way I am,” Ellie said, closing down the document she was working on.

“You have to be the only party planner in the world that actually hates parties,” Carys said.

“I’m paid to design them, not to go to them,” pointed out Ellie. “And going out like that, it’s just not my thing.”

“Says the person who got hit on within an hour of being there,” said Mo.

Ellie grimaced. She’d hoped that neither one of them had noticed the woman hitting on her at the bar. She’d recognized her immediately as the English Rose woman, the one whose companion’s foot she’d almost crushed.

“She was pretty hot,” Carys said.

Great, so they’d both noticed. “She was… attractive,” Ellie agreed, there was no point denying that. The woman had been very attractive. She could still remember the deep china blue of her eyes.

“So…” Mo said, drawing the word out.

“So what?” asked Ellie.

“So… why didn’t you at least dance with her?” Carys asked. “Was she plastered with makeup?”

“Or she had an extra arm hidden under her dress?” asked Mo.

“Ooo, maybe she only spoke a mysterious Slavic language,” Carys said.

“You’re both idiots,” said Ellie. “And for your information, not that it’s any of your business, but I don’t do one night stands.”

“Is that what she offered?” Mo asked, looking somewhat aghast.

“Not exactly,” Ellie allowed. “But it was sort of implied.”