Page 72 of Snowed In with You

Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Please don’t call him Ken.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because if he’s Ken, that makes me Barbie.’

‘Yeah, but not all Barbies are dumb blondes,’ said Jonno, looking very pleased with himself. ‘You’re one of the smart ones, smashing the patriarchy.’

‘Oh God, you’ve seen the trailer for the new Barbie movie, haven’t you?’

Jonno nodded. ‘It’s out in a couple of weeks, Marcia’s got tickets. It’s all part of her mission to improve me.’

‘How’s that going?’

‘I’ve finished all the Caitlin Morans,’ he said gloomily. ‘Now we’re on to the feminist movies. She’s adamant that a father of two girls should be able to see the world from their point of view.’

‘Shitting hell,’ laughed Lucy, eyeing the crisps but not wanting cheese and onion breath. ‘You might want to buckle in for a bumpy ride.’

‘Anyway, you’ve changed the subject. We’re off to Glastonbury today, but where’s Ken taking you tomorrow? Paris? Rome? Stockholm?’

Lucy scowled and gave him the finger. ‘Croydon. Kristoff is taking me to see my parents.’

‘Shit, that’s a downgrade. Is this their first encounter with Jet Set Ken?’

‘No,’ said Lucy patiently. ‘He’s met them once before, as you well know. My mum got all breathless and my dad dribbled over his car on the driveway.’

‘What a beautiful image. Which one of his wankpanzers was it?’

‘Actually, it was the Aston Martin,’ said Lucy, trying not to blush at the indecency of it all. ‘But I believe he’s picking us up in the Range Rover today. More practical for Somerset roads.’

‘Jesus,’ muttered Jonno. He drained his pint and shook his head. ‘I still can’t believe you’re dating fucking Kristoff, of all people.’

Lucy laughed. ‘It’s been over three months, Jonno. You can’t STILL be in denial.’

Jonno shrugged. ‘I miss you on Titan and that’s definitely his fault.’

‘Bullshit. I moved off Titan before he and I started going out. You’re just reinventing history because it gives you something to moan about.’

‘Writing about booze, though. How tedious for you.’ In March, LUNA had won the Shine Spirits account, which was owned by a collective of A-list Hollywood actors who were making a fortune selling premium gin and vodka in highly collectable glittery bottles. Lucy had been promoted to the job of creative lead on the account, which meant she oversaw a team of LUNA designers and copywriters in London, Paris and New York. She still had her flat in Bristol and worked out of the local office occasionally, but now most of her time was spent travelling.

‘It’s fun. I get to use words like artisanal and botanicals and hang out with Ryan Gosling.’

‘Who’s going to be a better Ken than Kristoff, I might add. Remind me how you even landed that job?’

‘Through sheer talent and hard work,’ said Lucy, pulling a snarky face. She squirmed a little, because even though she’d put everything into the interview process and had already proved she could do the job, she also knew that Sasha had originally floated her name and got her on the shortlist. A huge favour repaid with a gentle nudge, and the rest was up to Lucy.

‘Yeah, well. You’re hardly ever here these days – if you’re not swanking around the Met Gala, you’re doing birthday holidays in Lake Como with Ken, drinking Nespresso with George Clooney.’

‘I’ve never met George Clooney, don’t exaggerate. And Kristoff will be here soon, so be nice.’

‘I’m always nice. He’s my fucking client, remember? As opposed to a client you’re fucking.’

‘Oh, get over it,’ sighed Lucy. ‘You’re just jealous – five months ago you were in a bar in Switzerland calling him K-Dog.’

‘Shit, was that really five months ago?’

‘Yeah.’ Lucy’s thoughts drifted to Nate, as they invariably did about three hundred times a day. It was hard not to think about him, because he was everywhere. TV, radio, online . . . the whole country seemed to be madly in love with Nate Lambert.

‘I wish I’d got stuck on that mountain too,’ grumbled Jonno. ‘You end up shagging a multimillionaire, and Nate Lambert ends up playing Glastonbury.’