“Hands off, Caleb.” He pauses for a moment, assessing me. “Now.”
A smile breaks out across his face before he lets go of Mia’s hand, giving her a small bow and returning to the forest greenloveseat he’d previously occupied. His sharp gaze flitted between us like he was calculating how long it would take for Mia to fully hide herself behind me.
“Drinks?” Lottie suggests.
“Excellent idea,” I say, releasing Mia’s hand and giving her a nod. She follows Lottie into the kitchen and I hear their giggles from here. The remaining three of our group look up at me expectantly. Jonesy’s attention pulled away from Katie for the first time in years, Katie’s brow raised, and Caleb’s smirk pulls at his lips.
“That was fast, Alfie,” Caleb says smoothly.
I ignore him, instead, taking a step towards them all and lowering my voice. “As far as you’re concerned, Mia and I have been dating for a month or so and you don’t know any differently. Got it?”
“This is not going to go down well, Alf,” Jonesy leans his elbows on his thighs, smoothing his palms together.
Katie rolls her eyes, “Don’t be a baby. We’re in, of course.”
“I’m with Katie on this one. Sorry, bud.” Caleb nods to a glowering Jonesy before Jonesy flits his attention back to Katie.
I nod, express my thanks and move into the kitchen. The space is open plan; exposed supporting beams make it feel like the house is almost an extension of the forest, especially given that the floor to ceiling windows look right into it.
Lottie pours ice into a cocktail shaker, then begins to free pouring from multiple different bottles before adding a splash of what smells like pineapple juice. She slams the cap onto the base and begins to shake it over her shoulder like a seasoned bartender. After a minute or so, she picks up a strainer and holds it tight over the now-capless base and pours it into a Marie Antoinette glass. Pushing the ice-cold drink toward Mia.
“Thank you,” she says, lifting it to her lips, the prosecco left on the counter.
It wasn’t unheard of for these dinner parties to descend into how many drinks Lottie could create until we each found an empty bedroom and passed out until morning. But not tonight. Not only are we unprepared for a sleepover, I can’t say for sure I’d be able to keep my hands off Mia if we were to share a bed, which given we’re leading everyone to believe we’re dating, we would be sharing a room.
“I presume you’re not drinking tonight?” Lottie asks.
“Not tonight.”
“Excellent, you’ll be the referee.”
“Referee?” Mia asks, taking another sip of her cocktail, and damn it, she’s nearly drunk half already.
Lottie is lining up her next glass as I pull a water glass from the cupboard, filling it and passing it to her.
“Those—" I point to her cocktail, “—are lethal. A glass of water between each one.”
“Yes, Dr. Adams.” She smirks over the rim of her glass, gently tipping it into her mouth until she’s drained it. Picking up the second one, she takes a tentative sip, ignoring the glass of water I poured her.
“Oh boy,” Lottie mutters.
I pull her to the side, and lower my voice so that Mia can’t hear us.
“Can you go with this? Me and Mia, I mean. It’s too complicated to explain now, but as far as everyone is concerned, we’ve started dating.”
Lottie mimics zipping up her lips and throwing a key over her shoulder.
“Not that our friendship is transactional, darling, but I may need to call in a favor from you in exchange. The social media stuff is really affecting Luca’s PR team. They’re not happy.”
She sighs, and it’s then I notice the slight gray beneath her eyes, the forced smile. It seems I’ve neglected my friend thelast few weeks. I’ll need to carve out some time to rectify this. Luca, her secret beau, is a very high-profile figure, and his PR team is a headache, but for good reason. The public isn’t aware of their relationship at the moment. They’ve decided to keep it quiet, given that Luca is a prominent figure in his home country. Dating an American would come with some complications, even if Lottie is essentially US royalty.
“Okay, let’s talk about it tomorrow?”
She blows me a kiss before sauntering into the living room, her long flowing dress sweeping behind her.
Turning to Mia, who I have no doubt is using the drink as liquid courage. She seems nervous when in reality she has no need. These people are my friends and will respect her regardless of what she does or studies. Of course they’re intrigued. I’d never brought a woman to our monthly Dinner Club before. Although in reality, Dinner Club mostly meant we played board games and drank until the small hours of the morning. Each month we would swear to be sensible, only to be egged on by one another until the following month, where the entire process would begin again.
“You’re a bit of a brat, did you know that?” I whisper into the shell of her ear as we return to the living area.
