Holiday romance
t’s Friday morning, and my wife and I are chatting about what lies ahead of us that day as we wait for a pot of coffee to brew. It’s the closest thing to a watercooler moment in this brave new working-from-home world of ours. “I’m interviewing Rosie Jones at 10,” I say, slowly plunging the cafetière. I turn to see her mouth hanging wide open. “I love Rosie Jones!” she exclaims, dropping a spoon in her excitement. “You have to make friends with her, ok!?” she says, pushing
