Page 2 of The Gin Lover's Guide to Dating

‘OK, sure. What’s it about?’ I ask, but Derek is already lost in his phone again, and swiftly disappearing from sight.

Somethingimportantwe need to discuss? I wonder what that could be… oh, wow! I don’t want to jinx things, but isn’t it obvious? From our discussion at my appraisal, all the extra work I’ve done on the merger, and now the hugely positive reactions to the conference.

I must be finally getting my promotion.

Chapter 1

‘Liv, hi! Oh, yousooomissed out last night!’

I turn to find Anya has joined the coffee queue behind me. She’s immaculately dressed in a smart outfit similar to mine, her hair slicked back in an elegant bun and thick-lensed diamanté-studded glasses perched on her perfect button nose.

‘What do you mean I missed out?’ I’m immediately alert and alarmed. ‘Tony’s retirement do is next week.’

‘Oh, it wasn’tplanned,’ Anya chirrups. ‘Tom and I were working late on the merger completion press release, then Derek popped his head around the door and suggested we get a drink in.’

‘Right. Awesome.’ I smile brightly, determined not to let my disappointment at missing out leak into my voice. ‘So, a good night, you say?’

‘Only.TheBest. Yet.’ Anya’s so wound up and excitable, she looks like she might take off. ‘Derek opened a bar tab. It was basically Laurent-Perrier on tap.’

‘The boss paid? That’s new.’ For a moment, I’m so shocked that I almost forget how gutted I am. Derek barely ever comes out; and when he does, he never gets a round in.

‘I know, right?’ Anya bounces up and down a little on the spot.

‘Where did you go?’

‘That new rooftop bar near the Grassmarket. It’sa-ma-zing.’

‘I thought it hadn’t opened yet.’

‘It hasn’t. Last night was the VIP pre-opening event. Derek got an invite, the lucky sod.’

‘Right, yeah, that worked out well.’ I hope Anya misses the forced tone in my voice.

‘It’s a shame you were meeting your friend, or I’d have called you. Did you have a good night?’

‘Me? Yeah. It was fab.’ I pretend to stifle a yawn, inwardly cursing myself for my two errors of judgement: leaving work at a sensible time and agreeing to meet Dylan – who never works a minute past five – on a week night. ‘Late one, you know.’

‘I know how you feel.’ Anya leans in conspiratorially. ‘I got to bed at three this morning and was up at seven.’

‘The usual?’ I ask her, having reached the front of the queue and been prompted for my order.

‘Oh, thanks, Liv. I’ll shout you next time.’

I give our order to the barista, hand over the cash, and we move along to the end of the coffee bar to await our drinks.

‘So, any gossip to share?’ I decide that even if I couldn’t witness the goings-on first-hand, at least I can join in the day-after-the-night-before chat.

Anya suddenly looks all coy. ‘Actually, there is. I snogged Tom.’

‘You didn’t.’

‘I did!’ She reddens slightly and the bounce returns, intensified. ‘We’re going on a date.’

‘OMG!’ I clap my hand over my mouth. ‘Check you.’

Our names are called. We scoop our drinks up and march confidently out of the office café, masters of our skyscraper heels.

‘Well, much as I’m dying to hear the rest…’ I turn to Anya as we reach the lifts ‘…I’ve got a meeting to get to.’

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