“How long have you been here?” Paul asked. “Where have you come from?”
“About two weeks. And Boston.” Meena sipped the prosecco.
“A toast. Happy Christmas,” Zoe interrupted. “May we all get exactly what we deserve.”
They clinked glasses. This was Zoe’s annual tradition, one Meena had participated in once or twice in the past. The pre-Christmas Sunday roast at the pub. Meena loved this quintessential British custom. A lazy Sunday, the quiet hum of the crowd, a crackling fireplace on the other side of the room, and platters of roast beef, chicken, or salmon with potatoes, cabbage, and carrots. The best part was the Yorkshire pudding drizzled with gravy. It all ended with sticky toffee pudding.
“How was it, besides cold and dark?” Paul asked. “Shoot anything fun?”
“It wasn’t for work,” Meena said. “Took a little break. Fall in Boston is beautiful.”
“And the men?” Fiona was an old work colleague of Zoe’s, petite and cheerful in her Santa hat and bright-green dress.
Meena shook her head.
“Are you sticking around for a bit?” Paul asked.
“Through the New Year,” Meena said. “Then I’m in Seoul for a quick feature.”
She’d pitched a few stories while she’d been in London, and one had been picked up by an editor for Rolling Stone magazine. It would be good to get back to what she did. Next year at this time, the memories of these past few months would have faded.
“No work talk,” Fiona ordered. “We need to drink and party.”
“Speaking of.” Paul cleared his throat as if to make an announcement. “I’m playing at a little place in Islington on New Year’s Eve. Will add you to the guest list.”
“Thanks,” Meena said. “That sounds fun.”
“They’ve added a new drummer.” Fiona licked her lips. “He’s deliciously beautiful.”
“Fee.” Paul turned to her. “You know the rule: no dating my bandmates.”
“It’s not my fault,” Fiona said. “Add some undatable men and I’ll keep away.”
Paul wagged his finger at Fiona.
“Zoe has Aiden,” Fiona argued. “Bernie and Louise are moving in together next month. You’ve got Andrew. I’m the last of our group; all of you need to be on the lookout for me.”
“I’m doing my best,” Zoe offered. “I even have a date for you for New Year’s Eve. He’s a creative at my agency and very fun. At the holiday party, he led the whole office in karaoke to ‘Dancing Queen.’ It was hilarious.”
“Sounds like a keeper.” Bernie nudged Fiona with her shoulder.
“What about you, Meena?” Fiona asked. “Any New Year’s Eve dates? Did you bring a burly Bostonian with you to spend the holidays?”
“Leave her be. She’s perfectly happy on her own,” Zoe said.
Meena poured herself more prosecco and tried not to think about Sam. At least he wouldn’t be described as burly in any sense of the word. Geeky, charming, casual, kind. She took a sip and returned her focus to the conversation that continued around her.
“Who are you thinking about?” Fiona asked.
Meena touched her cheek. “No one. It’s warm in here.”
“No it’s not.” Fiona pointed her glass toward Meena. “Spill.”
“It isn’t like that,” Meena said.
“Now I’m curious.” Paul leaned toward her. “Tell.”