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Alex’s smile didn’t linger. She spotted Olivia on the prowl and squeezed her glass.

Harry’s dad pointed over his shoulder. “Are you sitting at our table?”

“No, Budgie, darling. Our table’s for family.” Olivia patted his arm. “Alex is seated…elsewhere.” She waved her hand towards the third table far from Harry’s spot. Banished to social Siberia. No need to guess who created this seating plan.

While Harry Sr. gazed towards Alex’s table, Olivia seized the opportunity to shoot the blonde a smirk. “Come along, Budgie. Mustn’t waste time. I’d like you to meet our dearest friends.” She steered him away without pause.

Alex walked around the room, snooping at the names on the table place cards. She found hers and frowned—her chair sat the furthest from Harry. Any further, she’d be in another room.

A hostess announced dinner would be served shortly. Alex claimed her seat, thankful to kick off her shoes. With luck her tablemates wouldn’t be stuck-up label slaves, looking down their cosmetically sculpted noses at her non-designer dress.

Tom, Olivia, Harry, and their parents were at the far table along with three stern-looking businessmen. A few couples filled out Alex’s table. Two young women sat down on either side of her.

“Hi, I’m Caprice.” A buxom blonde in a plunging orange knee-length dress extended her right hand.

Alex gawped at Caprice’s Rubenesque breasts. She didn’t mean to stare, but her dress barely contained its voluptuous cargo. Alex shook her hand and gulped, her eyes skimming over her own meagre chest. “Alex. Nice to meet you.”

She felt like a thirteen-year-old next to chesty Caprice.

A brunette with a pixie cut sat to Alex’s immediate right. She smiled. “Hello. I’m Rosamund. Quite the night, isn’t it? How do you know Harry?”

“We met in Atlanta when he was on exchange at Emory. Now I’m his flatmate, well…just temporarily…”

Rosamund’s eyes widened. She ran her fingertips over the neckline of her black asymmetrical dress. “Oh, you’re the American. Right. Olivia had mentioned you.”

Alex shifted in her chair, fussing with the A on her necklace. “I’m here to start my career in the theatre, in writing. How do you guys know them?”

“We go way back,” said Caprice. “How long have we been friends with Harry and Olivia, Rosamund?”

“With Olivia, at least ten years, I think. Christ, that makes us sound old, doesn’t it?” Rosamund grinned into her glass of champagne. “We went to school with Olivia at Cheltenham. Harry was a champion tennis player at Eton. In the holidays we shared the same large group of friends. All the girls had crushes on Harry. He was quite the ladies’ man, but once he set eyes on Olivia, all bets were off. No one else mattered.”

Rosamund smiled in Harry’s direction. “He was infatuated, and Olivia was, too; she just didn’t let him know it. My God, the hoops she made him jump through! It took him the best part of a year before she agreed to go on a date. That girl played a blinder.”

“Love-Forty, then game, set and match. Bitch!” Caprice laughed, finding herself hilarious.

“Olivia could write the book on playing hard-to-get. She’s brilliant,” said Rosamund.

Caprice looked wistfully at Harry and Olivia’s table. “I wish they’d hurry up and get hitched. Now that will be wedding of the year. I’m already eyeing up a Dior gown for my bridesmaid’s dress.”

Alex didn’t know what else to talk about. Since Caprice mentioned dresses, it seemed like a safe bet.

“I love the colour of your dress. It’s so vibrant. Perfect for spring.”

“Thanks. It’s Roland Mouret. I saw Reese Witherspoon wearing it in Hello!, and had to buy it.” Caprice’s eyes swept down Alex’s dress with nary a compliment. “I would’ve loved to wear the Victoria Beckham, but Rosamund called dibs.”

Rosamund shrugged. “It’s Olivia’s, actually. She lent it to me last year.” She played with a weighty chandelier of diamonds dangling from her left ear. Just one of her earrings would likely have paid for Alex’s entire college education. “When I walked in tonight, she told me to keep it. Love that girl.”

A waiter interrupted the banter, handing elegant menus to Caprice, Rosamund, and Alex. She looked up to thank him and gasped.

“Oh my God, Mark! You work here?”

“Alex. Hi!” He glanced at the other guests. “What are you doing here?” Mark seemed just as surprised as Alex to see a friendly face. The black trousers, white shirt, and purple tie looked familiar; he’d worn the same thing at the Castle pub last weekend. A lock of black hair fell mischievously over his forehead. She desperately wanted to sweep it back in place.

So giddy, seeing him unexpectedly, Alex’s cheekiness ran away with her tongue. “Pleased to see me then?”

He stifled a laugh, and leaned in, his tone conspiratorial. “More than you’ll ever know.”

Alex couldn’t stop smiling. “Actually, my flatmate Harry, his club’s officially opening tonight, so we’re celebrating.”