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“Hi, Lulu.” He gave her a quick kiss on her cheek and glanced at me. “What are you two doing?”

“We’re celebrating Emily’s results, aren’t we?” Lulu beamed first at me, then at him. “I’ll pour you a glass.”

“How many have you had?” he asked me without disguising the censure in his voice.

“Just two.” I smiled innocently at him.

His jaw tightened.

“Here you are, darling.” Lulu offered him a filled glass.

“Congratulations again on your excellent results, Emily.” Raising his glass, he clinked it against mine, then Lulu’s. I flushed, suddenly shy for some reason.

“Have you eaten anything?” His voice was mild but deceptive, his displeasure obvious in his low tone.

“Nibbles! What a good idea, Dyl.” Lulu hurried over to the larder.

I grew more and more uncomfortable under Dylan’s unrelenting scrutiny. Was Lulu completely unaware of his irritation? How could she be so oblivious?

She plucked two white bowls from the shelf and poured pretzels into one and olives into the other.

“Here you go.” She gave Dylan a bright smile, but he stared at her impassively.

“I’ll just go shower. I think Emily’s had enough champagne,” he said.

I bristled at his interference. Lulu and I were bonding, and surely I should be the one who decided if I’d had enough!

But he took no notice and stalked out of the kitchen.

Lulu smiled, gave me a wink, took the bottle from the large American-style fridge, and refilled my glass. She placed her manicured finger against her lips to ensure my silence. I grinned.

Perhaps she wasn’t so bad after all.

Mmm, the champagne was ice-cold and delicious, and it had a pleasing effect on my brain. My head was… lighter.

“It was so busy at the gallery today…”

While Lulu chatted about her day, I didn’t have to worry about any uncomfortable silences; Lulu didn’t do silence. Indeed, I didn’t have to contribute much to the conversation at all.

“… and he’s such a good client, but he’s such a dreadful bore…”

I nodded or sighed in the right place and she babbled on.

“… he loves cricket…”

It surprised me that Dylan liked her constant chatter. But then I’d only really known him for a short while, and my sense of him was filtered through the fog of my grief.

Each to their own.

In my inebriated state, I thought about the boy. I racked my fuzzy brain for some clue as to who he might be. I must have met him before. Surely I couldn’t conjure up a hallucination of a complete stranger.

“… and he can be a little handsy…”

I giggled at the thought, then realized from the stern look Lulu shot me that I’d giggled in the wrong place.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”

Lulu continued the never-ending saga of her day and her annoying client.