‘The notice on the door was a nice touch.’ ‘Is everything all right, Dad?’ ‘Fine.’ He reached out a hand to ruffle her hair but Josie got to her feet ‘She’s available; I checked.’ Draco looked down, not so very far now. Over the past ten months his daughter had grown ten inches and had gone from being a sweet, slightly chubby five-feet-one twelve-year-old to a slender, leggy thirteen-year-old; still sweet but to his parental eye worryingly mature, with the sort of coltish good looks that had already drawn two offers of modelling contracts. Draco was just relieved he hadn’t had to come the heavy parent over the latter; Josie had plans for her future that did not include becoming the face of anything. ‘Who is available?’ He glanced down and noticed for the first time that his daughter was holding a cocktail. He winced and blamed Eve for taking his eye off the ball. Just what was the woman’s problem? He slung a quick glance across the room and sure enough she was still acting as if she were at a wake, not a wedding reception.
