Page 13 of Last Christmas in London

Josh was an extravagant Londoner, who considered kitchens purely decorative. Whether from laziness or lack of culinary skill, I could never truly tell. Either way, he was great company, and since my palate had barely scratched the surface of London’s food scene, I was more than happy to indulge.

I arrived at the restaurant early, a habit I’d picked up from managing Pim’s schedule. Producers, directors, and casting agents despised tardiness, so my running early often ensured she was on time. At the restaurant, the hostess informed me, ‘Your table will be ready in twenty minutes,’ and gestured towards a plush sofa in the bar. Sitting down with my enormous bag, I pulled out my trusty iPad to review the CVs sent over by a recruitment agency.

So far, the calibre for the ‘new me’ wasn’t inspiring hope. There were a few too many PAs jumping from client to client, clearly unable to handle big personalities – an instant no when hiring for Pim. Then there were the few promising ones I knew she’d detest: a West End ensemble actress-turned-assistant, a veteran PA no doubt set in the ways of an old client after twenty years of service, and the aimless university graduates treating this job as a stepping stone. I’d started in the latter way, but my no-strings lifestyle and bulletproof ego had made me surprisingly well suited to wrangling a dramatic, jet-setting performer with an ego the size of Sheffield and a bank balance to match.

Basically, I needed to find someone like me: low-maintenance, low-fear, and low on attachments. Not easy.

‘What’re you reading?’ Josh’s voice startled me as he appeared behind me.

I yelped, clutching the iPad to my chest.

‘Ha! Gotcha!’ he said, kissing my cheek before sliding onto the sofa beside me. He glanced around, frowning slightly. ‘This isn’t where we’re eating, is it?’

‘No, our table’s being prepared,’ I said, hastily stuffing the iPad back into my bag.

‘What are you hiding away?’ He peered curiously at my bag.

‘I was trying to find the “new me”,’ I said, using air quotes.

Josh scoffed. ‘There’ll never be another you. Just hire someone who can get the job done, bail, and then leave the mess behind.’

‘I’m not doing that,’ I replied, quietly appalled at the thought of leaving Pim stranded. She wasn’t a friend, but she deserved better than that.

‘She’s a tyrant,’ Josh added.

‘She’s an ageing star; she’s earned a little tyranny.’

‘She acts like Katharine Hepburn on-screen, but off-? She’s more Katharine “Kay” Francis.’

‘Who?’

‘Exactly.’

Josh flagged down a passing waiter, who stopped instantly, drawn to Josh’s chiselled jaw and dark, smouldering eyes. With his thick stubble and unruly hair, Josh was the quintessential tall, dark, and handsome cliché. Once, he was mistaken for Oscar Isaac and didn’t know whether he should be delighted to be associated with such an attractive man or aghast that someone thought him fifteen years older than he was. I told him to take the compliment.

‘I’ll have a Peroni,’ Josh said with a flirtatious smile. ‘No rush; we’re enjoying the ambience.’

Josh might as well have been alone. The waiter barely acknowledged me as I added, ‘I’ll have a Peroni too.’

As soon as the waiter had left, still pausing to glance back for a few lingering seconds to stare at Josh, I hummed Mendelssohn’s ‘Wedding March’ under my breath.

‘Stop it,’ Josh said, sitting back. ‘He’s nice to look at, but there’s nothing behind the eyes.’

‘Really? How can you tell? I say ask for his number.’

Josh rolled his eyes and smiled as if he had been waiting for a comment like this so he could say, ‘Darling, I’m spoken for.’

I sat bolt upright – not easy on this kind of loaf-like sofa. ‘You’re what? Since when?’

‘Since last month,’ he said, beaming. ‘It’s been blink-and-you’d-miss-it kind of quick.’

‘Clearly! Last month, you were crying over the lack of decent Grindr dates. Now you’ve found someone?’

‘Maybe the one,’ he said, his eyes sparkling.

I bit my tongue, resisting the urge to remind him that all his last six boyfriends had been ‘the one’ at some point. ‘Exciting! Who is he?’

‘His name’s Zach. He’s an accountant.’