Page 165 of Pretty Mess

“People in glass kitchens shouldn’t throw stones,” Joe muses, digging through his messenger bag. A load of business cards for his wedding planning business falls out, and I bend to scoop them up for him. “Cheers,” he says with a sunny smile. “Now, let me just find my diary because I need to make a note to remind Lachlan of when he put a tin of tuna in the microwave.”

“Joe,” Lachlan sighs, but his lip twitches as he looks at his husband.

The lift doors open, and they step in. “Getting in?” Lachlan asks, as Julian and I hesitate.

“Erm, no. I just remembered something. Something important,” I say, waving vaguely at the office. Joe winks at me, and the doors close.

“Aaaand relax,” Julian intones, and we both snort before grabbing another lift.

When we get downstairs, he opens the boot of his sporty little Audi with a click of his key fob, and I gratefully throw my bag in before climbing into the front seat with a sigh of relief. “God, I’m tired.” He climbs in, and I look at him as he starts the engine and pulls away from the small car park. “So, what are you up to this weekend?” He shoots me his usual bland look, and I groan. “Do I need a security password to find out your comings and goings?”

“Well, hopefully, they’ll be more of the former than the latter.”

“Are you going to Jack’s?”

He grimaces. “Fuck,no. Whatever gave you that idea? I haven’t been there since we packed it in.”

I shrug. “I don’t know. You never say anything about your personal life.”

“Not one of your failings.”

“Can I help it that I’m open and unguarded?”

“Or have a mouth the size of the Mersey Tunnel.” I laugh, and he shoots me a look, his eyes twinkling. “I’m not doing anything apart from giving myself some much-needed me time.”

“Is that a code word for masturbation?”

“I don’t recalleverneeding to conceal that.”

“True. Are you happy?” I ask impulsively.

He shoots me a startled look before turning his attention to the busy traffic. “What an odd question.”

“Not really. It’s odder not to get an answer to it.”

There’s a long pause. “I suppose so,” he finally says. “I like that my flat is my own and I don’t owe anything to anyone. I have a good social life, and I date.”

“That sounds happy.” He shrugs. “Do you still see Fox?” I say impulsively.

He groans. “Where is all this coming from?”

“I’m sleep-deprived. I always talk too much.”

“Well, luckily, that’s Mac’s problem and not mine. Is he back yet?”

“No,” I say morosely. “He’s been gone for ages. The original week stretched into two because there was a problem with the Paris office, so he’s had to stay until it was sorted.”

“Are you still going on holiday next month?”

“Definitely. He promised me, and he never breaks his promises.”

“Where are you going again?”

“Two weeks in the Caribbean. Me, him, a big bed, and no internet. Bliss.”

“How’s your brother and Cath doing?”

I can’t help but smile. “They’re doing really well. They just moved into a new house, and they’re talking about starting a family.”