He assured her she wouldn’t, then wished he’d been more cautious. Instead of the ladylike gesture he’d expected, she put all her force into hurling the ball a great distance, so that a man contentedly munching sandwiches had to jump out of the way with an angry yell.

‘You told me it was safe,’ she said in mock complaint.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you could throw that far.’

With a bark of joy, Wicksy bounded after the ball, retrieved it and charged back to drop it at her feet. After another couple of throws he came to sit before her, his head cocked to one side, gazing up at her with a significant expression.

‘All right, let’s go,’ she said, taking the ball from his mouth and putting it away. ‘This next bit is rather indelicate, so you may want to go away.’

‘I’ll be brave,’ he said, grinning.

She found a spot under the trees, said, ‘OK, go on,’ and Wicksy obeyed while she reached into her bag for the scoop and plastic bag.

‘Would you like me to do that for you?’ he asked through gritted teeth.

‘That’s being gallant above and beyond the call of duty,’ she said, liking him for it. ‘But he’s my responsibility and I’ll wield the pooper-scooper.’

‘Well, I offered,’ he said, and something in the sound of the words told her he was grinning with relief.

When the business was complete they made their way back across the park.

At the door of her building he said, ‘I meant to tell you a lot more about my firm and our requirements, but there wasn’t time. Can I take you to dinner tonight and we can talk some more?’

‘I would like that.’

She spent the rest of the afternoon hard at work, for she wanted to impress him. Then she went home, showered, and put on a gold dress that she’d been told looked stunning with her red hair.

In the apartment next door lived Angela, a good friend who worked in a wholesale fashion house, and one of the few people Celia trusted enough to ask for help. Having called her in, she twisted and turned before her.