Pictures of Lily

about your engagement,’ Lucy cries. ‘Richard hasn’t filled me in on any of the details.’ She glances at my boyfriend mock accusingly, then grins at me. ‘How did he propose?’
    ‘Er, it was at your wedding, actually,’ I reply. ‘On the ferry.’
    ‘No way!’ Lucy says. ‘And you kept it quiet?’
    ‘She didn’t want to take anything away from your big day,’ Richard tells them.
    ‘Are you kidding me? It would have added to the excitement.’
    I can’t help but laugh at Lucy’s enthusiasm.
    ‘Have you set a date yet?’ Molly wants to know.
    ‘No. Maybe the year after next.’
    ‘Another long engagement,’ Sam tuts, rolling his eyes at Nathan.
    I just shrug and smile innocently.
    I catch an earlier ferry the next morning so I can get in to work in time to quiz Nicola about Pier Frank. She tries to keep a straight face as I walk up to the reception desk.
    ‘How was it?’ I ask.
    ‘How was he , you mean.’ She smirks.
    ‘You didn’t!’ I gasp.
    ‘I did.’
    ‘You didn’t!’ I cry again.
    ‘I couldn’t help myself,’ she sniggers.
    ‘You shagged him?’ I’m unable to contain my reaction.
    ‘Shhh!’ she whispers. I glance behind to check no one has entered the building. We’re alone.
    ‘What was he like?’ I’m still taken aback, but curiosity gets the better of me.
    Her lips turn down and she cocks her head to one side. ‘Pretty good.’
    That doesn’t sound too convincing.
    ‘No, he was alright,’ she says again when she notices my reaction.
    ‘Pretty good? Alright ?’
    ‘He’d had a few drinks. And he’s not that big anyway.’
    I can’t help but guffaw at her honesty. She starts to file her nails, nonchalantly.
    ‘Are you going to see him again?’ I ask.
    She shrugs. ‘Maybe. He knows where to find me.’ She quickly puts down her nail file as a petite brunette in her twenties walks through the door, carrying three cups from Starbucks. It’s Cara, the girl who’s covering for me while I’m upstairs.
    ‘I’ll catch you later,’ I mouth and she grins and raises her eyebrows.
    ‘Good morning,’ Cara says brightly to Nicola as I push the button for the lift. ‘I brought you a coffee.’
    ‘Awesome,’ Nicola says gratefully as the lift arrives and I step inside.
    Coffees ? Takeaway coffees? And not cheap ones at that. What a bloody cheek, attempting to muscle her way into the affections of my friends! Don’t get too comfortable, missy, I think grimly. I’ll be back in a week.
    ‘How was it?’ Jonathan asks me on his way past my desk a few minutes later.
    ‘Good, thanks,’ I lie politely.
    ‘I told you,’ he says in a sing-song voice. ‘Dull as ditchwater, right?’
    I laugh. ‘Am I that transparent?’
    ‘Totally. Did you speak to Pier at all?’
    ‘Not much,’ I reply honestly. ‘I did meet him though.’
    ‘Good, because he’s coming in later.’
    ‘Oh, right.’
    ‘We’re doing a profile on him,’ Jonathan informs me. ‘In fact, could you book a meeting room for Niles to do the interview?’
    Niles is one of the junior writers.
    ‘Sure. What time?’
    ‘Check with Niles this morning, but I think it’s at two o’clock.’
    ‘Will do.’
    ‘Thanks.’
    As soon as he’s gone, I email Nicola: Pier is coming in! I think at 2pm but I’ll double check .
    She immediately replies with: ARGH!!! Where the hell is my lippy?
    I grin and get on with my work.
    Pier is indeed scheduled to arrive at 2 p.m., so I take an early lunch-break to ensure I’m back on time. Nicola is looking glossed-up and glamorous when I enter the building with my soup.
    ‘Good luck,’ I say on my way past. She tries to keep a straight face.
    Reception calls at five past two.
    ‘The bastard blanked me,’ Nicola says heatedly down the phone.
    ‘No!’ I cry. ‘Where is he?’
    ‘He’s on his way up.’
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘He went straight up to Mel and didn’t even look at me.’
    ‘What an arsehole!’ I squawk as loudly as I can get away with. I see through the glass panel on the door that Pier Frank has just stepped out onto the landing. ‘He’s here, better go.’
    ‘Give him a kick for me,’ she says menacingly.
    ‘Or you could give him one on the way out,’ I say, as he pushes through the door.
    ‘Not bloody likely,’ she mutters at my unintentional double entendre . I end the call.
    ‘Can I help you?’ I ask coolly. The twat is wearing dark sunglasses.
    ‘I’m here to see Jonathan.’
    ‘Your name?’
    He frowns with