CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The next morning Emily awoke to a pounding head and a mess of a B&B. She went down to the porch to get a bit of fresh air, where empty champagne glasses were still strewn, with popped balloons and streamers blowing gently in the breeze.
As she stood there surveying the c*****e, Emily felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Amy’s name flashed up on the screen. Emily answered the call.
“Happy New Year!” Amy screamed into the phone, so loud Emily almost dropped it.
“Happy New Year to you too,” Emily replied, wincing.
“Are you hung over?” Amy probed.
“Of course I am!” Emily exclaimed. “We had the grand unveiling of the speakeasy bar last night. There was lots of jazz and Manhattans and attempts at doing the Charleston.”
“Sounds fab,” Amy replied. There was a lilt to her v
