as funny as he is,’ she replied. ‘But I don’t think he’s making me laugh on purpose.’
‘I’ll be over in a moment, honey,’ Lauren told her still horrified fiancé. ‘Don’t let them leave until I’ve said goodbye.’
He nodded dutifully and trotted back across the room long legs lolloping, with the look of someone who had just been told his puppy was terminal.
‘Sorry,’ I said, hanging my head in uncertain shame. ‘Sensitive, isn’t he?’
‘What about the bachelorette?’ Lauren suggested, ignoring me completely. ‘We haven’t been anywhere together in forever. We should do something just us girls.’
‘That could be fun,’ Sarah said, looking to me for confirmation. I nodded blankly, slyly checking my phone for a message from Will. Perhaps something along the lines of ‘top shag, will you marry me?’ but alas, nothing. ‘When do you want to go?’
‘Next month?’
‘Perfect. Maddie, what weekends are you working next month?’
‘Huh?’ I said, putting my phone away. ‘What weekends what?’
‘It’s not her fault she’s being stupid,’ Sarah said, batting me in the head with her clutch bag. ‘She’s all shagged out.’
‘Oh!’ Lauren blinked and clapped loudly. ‘Oh my God I forgot to ask you!’
‘Yes,’ I said, not wanting to make too big a deal out of my shagtacular night in front of Sarah. I had given her the briefest of details in an attempt to distract her from goosing Lauren’s dad at the buffet table earlier, but I had a feeling the soon-to-be divorced didn’t want to hear too much about their friend’s amazing one-night-stand at their other friend’s engagement party.
‘And?’
They both stared at me with expectation and it felt weird.
All I’d brought to the table for the last two years, relationship-wise, was how much I missed Seb, and now, out of nowhere, I was the centre of attention. Sarah was getting divorced, Lauren was getting married, I was the only one with shagging stories. Even though they were my best friends, I got the impression that they felt sorry for me sometimes. Having someone new, something promising to talk about, felt like a relief.
‘He’s … I don’t know,’ I said, confused and oddly shy. ‘I like him.’
‘Ooooh, you like him!’ Lauren did a little dance in her seat. ‘Are you bringing him to the wedding?’
‘I think it’s a bit early to be thinking about that,’ I scoffed.
It wasn’t too early. I had thought about it endlessly, ever since he’d left that morning.
Sarah stuffed a whole tomato and goat’s cheese bruschetta into her mouth as a waiter with a shocked face reeled from the drive-by food-snatching. ‘Tell us everything.’
‘His name is Will,’ I started.
‘Will what?’ Lauren asked.
‘Oh,’ I replied, cringing. ‘I don’t actually know.’
‘How old is he?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘What does he do?’
‘He’s a lawyer!’
‘Oh.’ Lauren frowned. ‘Not another one.’
‘How do you know Will isn’t some amazing lawyer who works for a charity or saves children from sweatshops or stops make-up companies from testing lipsticks on rabbits?’ I asked.
‘Is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admitted. ‘I know he’s a lawyer, I know he was Ian McCallan’s best man at the wedding yesterday, I know he likes to sleep on his left side and I know he likes to walk around my flat starkers in the morning.’
‘What does he look like?’ Lauren asked, tapping away at her phone while Sarah rolled her eyes.
Rude.
‘Dark hair but really, really short,’ I said. It felt strange talking about him like this as though he was someone I’d seen on TV, not someone real. ‘Nice smile, like, you just want to laugh every time you see it. Golden-brown eyes, great bod.’
‘Give me a comparison.’
‘Um, George Clooney before he went grey?’ I said. ‘Only English and without the gay rumours.’
Lauren squinted at me angrily. ‘George is married now! You’ve got to quit saying that shit.’
‘Elton John was married,’ I replied. ‘And he works in Holborn. And one of the ushers from the wedding really doesn’t like him.’
‘Yeah, well, he probably fancies you as well,’ Sarah said. ‘Men only ever fall out over women and football.’
‘Oh, he plays rugby! I know he plays rugby,’ I replied. ‘And the usher didn’t fancy me − he thought I looked like a fat panda, plus he’s engaged. Will says he’s a knobhead and I’m inclined to agree.’
‘Is this him?’ Lauren held up her phone to reveal an iPhone plus-sized photo of the man I’d been having sex with not three hours earlier.
‘Bloody hell, how did you do that?’ I asked, grabbing the phone out of her hand. I fancied him so much I could hardly stand to look at him.
‘Facebook? I put in Ian McCallan and the wedding photos came up. Ladies, meet Will Jennings. His profile is private but the dumbass who just got married still has his set to public.’
‘Maddie Jennings,’ I said. Online stalking was the best. ‘I like it.’
‘Have a minute,’ Sarah warned, balling up her napkin as she finished her food. ‘What happened last night?’
I didn’t know what to share. We’d snogged like teenagers, and as soon as we were through the door my knickers were round my ankles. It was such a long time since I’d felt anything for anyone, to feel so wanted and to want someone else so much was totally overwhelming.
‘Honestly?’ I asked. ‘You want the details?’
‘I do!’ Lauren squealed.
‘I mean, did you talk about seeing each other again?’ Sarah overruled. ‘Are you properly going out?’
‘Well it’s only been one night so far. Also, I don’t think people actually have the “are we going out together?” conversation in their thirties, Sarah,’ I said. As if I’ve got any idea what I’m talking about. ‘But yes, we did make plans. He said maybe Wednesday.’
‘Which one of these is the usher that fancies you?’ Lauren interrupted, waving a group shot from the wedding in my face.
‘This
