'Max, I'm sorry' she said grudgingly. 'I didn't mean to be rude.'

Max turned his head and stared at her. She couldn't tell from his expression if he was irritated or not. 'I was wondering how long I was going to have to keep up the silent treatment.'

'The silent treatment means you don't talk at all.'

'Well we can't do that seeing as we work together. Are you now going to tell me why you're angry at me?'

'I'm not angry at you.'

Here we go, time for humiliation.

'Ok tell me because I can't keep up this silence. I am not built for silence. I need to talk. You, you're a hermit but I need chatter. Even to you. And you're terrible company at the best of times.'

'I know. You never stop talking' said Miranda irritatedly.

'Are you going to tell me? You're acting like I broke your favourite teapot.'

That earned him an eye roll.

'I'm just annoyed at myself. Because…I watched something disturbing the other day and took it out on you.'

Not the best choice of words she could have used.

He looked puzzled.

'What kind of thing?'

'I went to Gerta's hen party last week.'

'Oh yes?' He looked delighted. Miranda sighed. He was going to be insufferable. Because she knew where this was going to lead. They were either going to be really awkward about it and Max would never stop teasing her or they were going to fuck.

She wasn't sure she was ready for either, now that it came down to it.

'Who got drunk? Did you vomit in her pot plant? Were there strippers? Please tell me there were strippers. I would pay to see you handle a stripper.'

He drummed his hands on the table with glee.

'There…were strippers' she conceded.

'Yes!' Max punched the air.

'How many notes did you throw at him?'

Max loved the thought of Miranda stuffing a 20 euro note down the thong of some oiled up, buffed up, pectoral gladiator. He needed a picture of it. Maybe that would be her birthday present, get her really flustered.

'None. It was hardly interactive' she said dryly.

Max slammed a hand down on his desk.

'What do you mean? You didn't even participate? You are so disappointing, Blake.'

'It was on the TV.'

'You don't watch strippers on TV, what is the point of that' he complained.

'Well you'd know more about that than me, Ethan' she said slyly.

That stopped him in his tracks.

'What?'

'Was it a one-off or a sideline?'

He looked at her suspiciously. Miranda hummed the first bar of the song. He froze in horror. What the hell had gone on at that hen party?