“Is one of them to sit looking out of your apartment window, balancing a glass of wine over the edge of the sofa, wrapped in that green patterned throw your mother got you for your birthday whilst hoping the incoming storm suddenly casts a blizzard over New York cancelling all New Year’s plans?”
“No . . .”
How did he know that?
“Wait, are you here?” She hung off the edge of the sofa, looking underneath for dramatic effect.
“No, but I take it I’m right?” He laughed.
“Am I that predictable?”
“Only to me, but I have known you your whole life. After thirty-five years you get to know a little bit about the person.”
“Just FYI I don’t wish for all plans to be cancelled, that’s mean, just enough that it makes me look less boring.”
“Why don’t you come for an hour? I can send a car to collect you whenever you’re ready. You can show your face, have a few drinks, see the New Year in with your old man and then go home. No obligations to stay for the party after the party.”
“You mean the after party?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“One hour?” Leah asked.
“Arrive at 11, leave at 12.” Douglas said in a cheery tone.
“It’s a lot of preparation for one hour.”
“Come for two then.”
“You’re pushing it.” Leah sighed. “Will I even know anyone there?”
“Sure, you know Frank, my old business partner, and his wife. You know Helen from the office, and her husband Paul. There’ll be a few familiar faces.”
“Anyone that was born in the early 90s?”
“Well, sure, there’s you, and erm...did I say you?”
“Dad! Please tell me there’ll be someone my age—that doesn’t include the bar staff.”
“You’re more than welcome to invite a friend if it’ll make you feel more comfortable.”
Next joke.
“Okay, I guess that gives me three hours to find a friend.” Leah joked.
“Does that mean you’ll come?”
“Yes, but on one condition—” Leah paused. “If I want to go home early, there’ll be no judgement.”
“None whatsoever, total judge-free zone over here.”
“When have you ever said judge-free zone?” Leah chuckled.
“Apparently, the new girl in charge of PR for the business said I need to be more...” he searched for the right word.
“Hip?” Leah smirked.
“No . . .”