LITMIR.BIZ

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least.’

      I knew PodPad. I turned down a job at PodPad to take the job in DC.

      ‘That’s amazing,’ I told her, the sound of a politely irritated flight attendant asking her to end her call crackling through my phone’s speaker. ‘I’m so pleased for you.’

      ‘It’s pretty wonderful,’ she agreed. ‘So, producer job. Are you interested?’

      ‘Um, I’d love to hear more about it,’ I replied, trying very hard not to sound as desperate as I felt. What if she wanted to know why I’d left? What if she wanted a reference?

      ‘You’re incredible, this is the most incredible thing that has ever happened,’ she cheered down the phone. Danielle, I remembered, was prone to hyperbole. ‘Can you come in tomorrow?’

      ‘Yes, absolutely,’ I confirmed, pushing negative thoughts away. ‘Let me know when and where and I’m there.’

      I thought back to a chapter of Starting Over I’d read at three a.m. while the foxes behind my shed rogered each other senseless. This is what happened when you stayed positive. Take your time, stop running. Stand still and the clouds will clear, allow life to show you the way.

      ‘I’m texting you the address, be there at ten tomorrow morning and I’ll love you forever,’ Danielle threatened. ‘I’m so pleased you texted me, Ros. I was just about to offer the job to a complete wanker and you’ve saved my life. Meant to be or what?’

      ‘Miss, please put away your phone or—’

      Three short sharp beeps in my ear declared the call over.

      I was officially the first person on the face of the earth who had accidentally sent someone a text message and it had gone right. I made a mental note to buy a lottery ticket on the way home. It had to be my lucky day.

      Flushing the loo, I slipped my phone into my back pocket so I could look myself in the eye and pretend I wasn’t the kind of person who reads their phone on the toilet (even though everyone did it, there were many reports on the matter). Pushing against the heavy toilet door with all my weight, I groaned, hoping the added vocalization might somehow make me stronger but it didn’t budge.

      ‘What do they do in here that they need hermetically sealed cubicles?’ I asked, not really wanting an answer to the question, before hurling myself at the door one more time. It stuck for a second then creaked open, sending me stumbling out into the toilets and—

      ‘JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.’

      I immediately locked eyes with a man using a urinal.

      ‘OH MY GOD,’ I screamed, covering my face with my hands before remembering I still needed to wash them. Thrusting my arms out in front of me, I closed my eyes instead, stumbling around the gents like a blind zombie.

      ‘What are you doing?’ the man shouted. ‘Get out!’

      ‘I’m going, I’m going,’ I promised, still holding out my arms and fumbling my way forward. It seemed foolish to keep my eyes closed now, especially since I’d seen everything, but I had been raised to be polite. And not to use the men’s toilets, but still.

      ‘Shit,’ he grunted as he zipped up his fly. ‘You made me piss on my shoes.’

      I winced, opening my eyes just a crack to find the sink. Sure, I might read my phone on the toilet but I always, always washed my hands.

      ‘No, really, take your time,’ I heard the man say over the sound of many, many paper towels being dispensed. I purposefully pumped the soap dispenser.

      I opened my eyes a crack and saw him rubbing at a dark stain.

      ‘I’m going to wash my hands,’ I said primly, rinsing my hands. ‘I’m not a monster.’

      He looked up but his dark hair was covering most of his face. ‘Says the woman using the men’s toilets.’

      ‘How dare you assume to know my gender identity,’ I mumbled as I grabbed my own paper towels.

      ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, even if he didn’t sound as though he was. ‘What are your preferred pronouns?’

      ‘Prefer not to say.’ I clocked the furious set of his jaw before I made a beeline for the door. Dark hair, dark eyes, murderous expression. Got it. ‘Sorry about your shoes.’

      Running back up the stairs, I grabbed the fresh glass of wine that was waiting for me and downed half of it in one gulp. Sumi’s eyes opened wide.

      ‘What happened to you?’ she asked. ‘Did a rat climb out the toilet or something?’

      ‘Let’s say yes,’ I replied, taking a breath and then going back for the rest of the glass. ‘I’m starving. Why don’t we go and get some food? Or go to The Lex?’

      ‘Ros, I told you, no one goes there any more. They got a new landlord and it’s basically a crack den,’ Sumi pulled a face. ‘It was always basically a crack den, we were just too poor to care before. If you’re hungry, they’ve got really good food here. Adrian loves the burger, have that.’

      ‘I really want to go somewhere else,’ I said, looking over my shoulder. ‘I know you like it here but this place is so pretentious and totally overpriced. Let’s go and get a pizza or something.’

      Sumi set down her glass with concern. ‘What on earth’s wrong? Did something happen to you downstairs?’

      ‘Nothing happened to her,’ a voice answered from behind the bar. ‘And we’ve got pizza. But it might be too overpriced and pretentious for you.’

      And there he was. The man from the gents, strapping a leather work apron over his white shirt and his damp blue jeans.

      ‘John!’ Sumi leaned over the bar to press kisses on either side of his annoyed face. ‘What are you doing here on a Monday?’

      Of course, they were friends. Of course they were.

      ‘Mostly being attacked in the men’s toilets,’ he replied, never once taking his dark eyes off me.

      ‘I didn’t attack you, it was an accident,’ I muttered. I attempted to hide my face behind my masses of hair, utterly mortified. ‘It’s not my fault you pissed on your shoes.’

      ‘Is that what I can smell?’ Sumi sniffed the air and made a face.

      ‘Could be the pizza,’ I suggested.

      Sumi looked from me to John and back to me, a confused smile on her face. As much as I loved my friend, she did like to stir up shit and there was clearly shit here to stir.

      ‘So, it seems like you’ve already met but we’ll do introductions anyway. John, this is my best friend, Ros, the one who was in America. Ros, this is John McMahon, the greatest bartender in all of London.’

      ‘Nice to meet you,’ I mumbled, holding out my hand. He stared at it but did not move. ‘What? You know it’s clean.’

      ‘Nice to see you, Sumi,’ John said with a nod. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed in the kitchen.’

      Leaving my hand hanging over the bar, he turned and disappeared down a staircase I hadn’t noticed before, hidden behind an enormous wine rack.

      ‘Well,’ Sumi turned back to me and took a long sip of wine. ‘Someone made an impression.’

      ‘Not the one I would have chosen,’ I replied curtly. ‘So, you were saying something about a burger?’

      ‘Drink your drink,’ she ordered. ‘I’m buying and you’re not working, let’s get pissed.’

      ‘Actually, I might have a job after all.’ I gave her a happy grin, accompanied by my best jazz hands. ‘Do you remember Danielle who I used to work with?’

      Sumi frowned. ‘Was

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