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Twenty-Eight

“Aw, now that feels better.” Tarquin stroked his leg.

Alex groaned and rolled her eyes. Typical.

“What? My legs went to sleep!” He stood up straight.

Jeez, he really was tall—taller than Mark, definitely taller than Harry’s five foot ten.

He pointed at his grey trousers. “My kecks? They’re too tight. Blame my footballer’s thighs. Last time I buy off the bloody rack.” His eyes roamed down their row. “Are you enjoying the play?”

“Yes.” A hint of a smile brightened her face. “I love Sir Ian McKellen.”

“Good. So, no dramatic exit, then?”

“Not yet. You said there’d be ice cream.”

He waved a hand. “Follow.”

They shimmied through an obstacle course of knees and feet in the third row. Once in the aisle, Alex caught up to Tarquin. “The ice cream dude is…back there.”

“Thought we’d grab some drinks first.”

She smirked. “Why? So, I can get sozzled, forget being here with you?”

“No, because it’s on me and my platinum card needs a workout.”

“I haven’t touched a drink since New Year’s.”

“Ah, right—the famous New Year’s. So how is Liam Neeson?” Tarquin led the way, weaving through an endless stream of patrons carrying glasses of wine.

“Who?”

“Your ex—the Irish action star.”

“His name is Mark, and for the record, Liam Neeson is from Northern Ireland, and he’s much more than an action star.”

“Do you miss him?”

Alex ignored his question as they joined the crush at the bar.

“You need to stop pining. He sounds like a self-absorbed prick.” Tarquin jammed his hands in his trouser pockets.

“Takes one to know one…” she murmured.

“Sweetheart, if no one has your back, pick up that slack.” Tarquin laughed. “Hey! That sounded a bit Dr. Seuss, didn’t it?”

Alex’s expression pinched. Ow. Her blouse…its label was attacking her neck. “Ahh, so that’s your reading level, is it? Second grade.” She shrugged, but the label poked even more.

“Ooh, salty! If looking after number one makes me self-absorbed, so be it. At least I’ve never put my job ahead of someone I supposedly loved—”

She glared sternly. “Who made you a relationship expert?”

Tarquin ignored her question. “This Mark bloke definitely put his career before you.”

Alex narrowed her eyes and shoved her purse under her arm.

“Oh, I’ve heard it all, Sincy. Cancelling a third holiday on the trot, desperate to fanny around in costume? That’s selfish.”