Page 143 of All I Want for Christmas

‘It’s like partying inside an amoeba,’ Freja giggled, her champagne glass pressed against her lips.

‘It’s incredible, is what it is. Do you even know these people?’

‘Maybe...ten of them?’ Freja shot her a grin.

‘Ten out of a hundred. Great!’

‘Most of them are Tristan’s uni friends, colleagues, industry contacts...But remember, I’m marrying an older man – he’s had more time to make friends! Plus, he’s rich, so everyone wants to be his friend.’

‘Uh-huh.’

Freja squeezed her arm. ‘So long asyou’rehere, it doesn’treally matter.’ She scrutinized Darcy closely. Darcy was wearing the black velvet dress again, her hair worn in a half-up, half-down do and make-up on. For no one but Freja would she have made this effort; an evening of small talk was the very last thing she needed. She had tried to get hold of Max when she had got back from the library but, to her dismay, had discovered he’d blocked her number. The revelation had floored her. Things had ended badly between them at the Academy on Tuesday as they retreated to their opposite corners of the ring – but surely he had spoken to Viggo by now and saw that, with the unsealing of Johan Trier’s bequest, everything had changed again?

‘I thought I heard the tippity-tap of fingers on keys through your door earlier. I looked in, but you had your headphones on and I didn’t want to disturb your flow. Do I take it your early-morning rendezvous was a success?’

‘Illuminating, certainly.’

‘And you’ve started writing?’

‘I’ve made a start,’ Darcy nodded, forcing a smile even though her body still thrummed with the aftershocks of what she had learned. Everything had pivoted again and she wasn’t sure how to feel any more. Nothing was absolute.

‘So then the block’s unblocked!’ Freja said, too brightly. ‘Now you can close the door on the whole thing and move on!’

‘Exactly,’ Darcy replied with some equanimity. This was neither the time nor place to give the final post-mortem on her situationship. It was Freja’s moment and she refused to put a downer on her friend’s joyous mood.

They both stared into the crowd, watching the sophisticated guests glitter and sparkle. Elegant receptions were becoming something of a norm for her these days, it seemed.

‘Freja!’

Tristan was calling her through the crowd, his face split into a happy beam as he motioned enthusiastically for her to come over.

‘Come with me? Let’s see if he’s got any hot single friends.’

Darcy rolled her eyes. ‘Hard pass.’

‘But—’

Darcy smiled, shaking her head. ‘I’m fine. You go! You’re the hostess. And I need another drink. I’ll join you in a bit.’

‘Promise?’

‘I promise.’

‘I’ll come looking if you don’t,’ Freja warned, squeezing her hand before slipping into the crowd. ‘...Hey, baby,’ Darcy heard her say as Tristan looped his arm around her.

Darcy turned away and headed for the bar, weaving between the bodies and avoiding eye contact as interested stares landed upon her. She figured another hour here, tops, before she could make a French exit – and she could spend half of that hiding in the loos.

‘A champagne, please,’ she said to the bartender.

‘...Make that two.’

She turned, stunned by the sound of a voice that had no place being here.

‘What areyoudoing here?’ she breathed as Max stared back at her, one hand in his trouser pocket, his tie off and top button undone. He looked exhausted, no sign of his usual anima in his eyes.

‘Tristan’s a contact. We’ve worked with his labs on a few things.’ He looked down at her, his eyes narrowing fractionally as he clearly recognized her dress from the night they had met. ‘You?’

‘Freja’s my flatmate.’

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