An introduction couldn't hurt.

Mara tried to look as though she were giving the offer sensible consideration. “Does this guy have a name?”

“Adam.”

“And you’re sure he wouldn’t mind being passed around like a restaurant recommendation?”

Darlene laughed. “I’m offering to introduce you. He can speak for himself.”

She found a photograph and held out her phone. The screen lit their faces as Mara leaned closer. On the coffee table, the abandoned ice cream had softened into a pale puddle around the spoon.

Mara looked. Then she took the phone for a closer inspection. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.”

“Send him a message.”

Darlene raised her eyebrows.

“Before I lose my nerve,” Mara added.

A short exchange followed. Darlene explained that she was with a friend who would like to meet him, then showed Mara the screen before sending anything further.

His reply arrived a moment later.

“Two hours?” Mara said.

“You sound personally offended.”

“I could have watched an entire film by then.”

“An excellent way to pass two hours.” Darlene settled back into the couch, plainly enjoying herself. Somewhere behind them, the television repeated the same cheerful menu music Mara had been ignoring all evening.

Mara looked at the photograph again. The prospect of meeting someone new had abruptly made the apartment feel too warm, and her old T-shirt seem like a terrible decision. “What am I supposed to do until then?”

“Well, for a start, you could stop looking at his photo as if that’ll make him arrive sooner.”

Mara handed the phone back, laughing. “I don’t want two hours to sit here overthinking it. I’ll talk myself out of it.”

Darlene’s expression softened. “You’re allowed to. Saying hello doesn’t commit you to anything.”

“I know.” Mara stood, then looked down at her pyjama bottoms. “I’m going to change.” She tugged at the faded hem of her T-shirt. Only an hour ago, getting dressed again had seemed like far too much effort; now she was mentally sorting through the clothes in her wardrobe.

“Good idea.”

“You could sound slightly less relieved.”

From the bedroom doorway, Mara glanced back. “Tell him I’d like to talk while he’s getting ready. If he’s free.”

Darlene typed, then held up the phone when his answer appeared.

A minute later, Mara sat on the edge of her bed with the phone against her ear. The bedside lamp cast a warm pool of light across the rumpled duvet. She still hadn’t changed, having spent most of the intervening sixty seconds deciding whether calling immediately would look too eager.

“Hi,” a man’s voice said. “Mara?”

Her carefully prepared opening vanished. “Apparently you’re making me wait two hours.”

Adam laughed down the phone. “Darlene didn’t mention you were impatient.”

“She’s only just finding out.”

Mara stretched out across the bed, smiling at the ceiling. It was easier to flirt with someone who couldn’t see her reconsidering every word.

“So,” Adam said, “what has she told you about me?”

“Very little. I’ve seen a photograph.”

“And yet you called. I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t get carried away.”

A quiet laugh came from the doorway.

Mara turned. Darlene stood against the frame, holding the cardigan Mara had abandoned on the couch. The bright colours of her kaftan stood out against the dim hallway. Her ponytail had loosened during the evening, leaving a few red strands falling around her face.

“Looking for this?” she mouthed.

Mara shook her head.

“Was that Darlene?” Adam asked.

“She’s supervising.”

“Oh, that sounds dangerous.”

Darlene tossed the cardigan onto a chair and turned to leave.

“Stay,” Mara said.

There was a brief silence on the line.

“Not you,” she told Adam, then closed her eyes. “Well, you too. That sounded smoother in my head.”

Darlene grinned, but she remained at the doorway.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked.

“A little.”

“I can go.”

Mara looked at her for a moment but shook her head.

The answer seemed to catch Darlene off guard. Her smile became smaller, less teasing.

“What’s happening over there?” Adam asked.

“Your character reference is refusing to give us any privacy.”

“Ask her whether she gave me a good review.”

“He wants to know what you said about him.”

“Tell him I was generous.”

Mara laughed, and some of her self-consciousness went with it. She tucked a pillow behind her shoulders. Her hand drifted down her stomach and, even with Darlene just a few metres away, disappeared under the waistband of her pyjama bottoms.

“Honestly,” Adam said, “we can just meet for a drink. No expectations.”

“I’d like that.” Mara’s fingertips found the very top of her flower petals and started to give them a rub.

“Good. And if you change your mind, tell me.”

Mara glanced at Darlene again. She was still watching, but now there was a question in her expression. “I will.” Under the influence of three glasses of wine and part of a fourth, her fingers were very quickly rewarded with moisture, both from the flirty conversation she was having and the captivating redhead that was watching her.

For a while, the conversation became ordinary. Adam told her about the disastrous dinner he was attempting to finish making. Mara admitted she had eaten ice cream instead. Darlene covered her mouth when he described setting off his smoke alarm.

Eventually, Mara took her hand back out of her panties and motioned for Hugh’s sister to join her.

Darlene crossed the room and lay beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. “Better?” she whispered.

Mara nodded.

“Sorry,” Adam said. “Missed that.”

“Nothing.” Mara smiled down at their joined hands. “Tell me about the dinner.”

Outside the bedroom, the television was still waiting for someone to press play, just as Mara led Darlene’s hand back inside her panties.