Better get this over with

You take time to savour the scent, not wanting to insult your friend. It smells fresh. There's something you don't recognise, too. You take a mouthful. It's sweet, mostly, but there's bitterness too. And something new.

James leans in and whispers in your ear. “Try being inhibited now, Alex. You're one of us. Don't forget it.”

There's something seductive in his voice. You look round. Nobody is looking at you, quite. But isn't Lucy really very attractive? And Sebastian, too? You realise you are slightly harder than is decent in company. James kisses your cheek, then pulls back. Nothing has happened, his manner says. Everybody's manner says. He sits down.

You finish your drink, not attuned to the conversation around you. Suddenly there is the sound of a bellchime.

“I think that will be our guest of honour,” says James, getting to his feet. He bustles off, then returns a moment later.

Jenny Crawford is wearing the same vivid blue strapless dress. It fits her form, exaggerating her perfect shapes. Her eyes glow with intelligence. Her hair—a natural light blonde—is styled into an immaculate bob. Her breasts, clutched by the hem of her dress to her chest, are perfect. Neither large nor small, they speak to absolute perfection.

“And what are you looking at?”

Your eyes snap up to meet hers. She's amused.