Page 18 of Meet Me in Berlin

‘I’m a Gemini; we avoid shit.’

Jaz rolls her eyes. ‘You need to go back to Berlin.’

I throw my head back and let out a frustrated groan. This is why I didn’t message her as soon as Josanne left my office. ‘That’s not going to help me find her.’

‘Maybe she’s there? Maybe she’s been there this whole time, waiting for you.’

I raise my brows. ‘What fairytale land do you live in?’

Jaz watches another curvy body stroll by and flashes a flirtatious smile. ‘Queer fairytale land. And it is fab-u-lous.’

I laugh and reach across the table for a sip of her wine, since she got herself two drinks.

‘Isn’t the date coming up?’ Jaz asks.

‘What date?’ I say, feigning ignorance.

‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. The date. You have to go to that park.’

‘And you say I’m stupid? You think she’s going to be sitting in a park waiting for me eleven years later?’

Jaz shrugs. ‘Stranger things have happened. And last time you did that, it helped you sort what to do about whatshername – that one you dumped when you were there.’

‘Bethany. And don’t remind me; I still feel guilty about that.’

‘Aren’t you going to Berlin in a couple of weeks for the opening of the new exhibition anyway? You’re head of exhibitions, go earlier.’

I sigh, knowing I can’t keep it from her any longer. ‘Josanne wants me to do that. Sick staff and Felix can’t manage everything on his own.’

‘No way!’

I frown. ‘I don’t think I want to go. I’m a bit stressed, with work and Eva. I’m confused about everything. Stick me in Berlin at this time of year … it’s a bit much, know what I mean? I’m worried I’ll get there and something weird will come over me. I don’t want to hurt Eva.’

Jaz gives a sympathetic smile that also tells me she knows to back off, although it won’t last long. ‘Yeah. I don’t want you to hurt her either. I’m just messin’ with you. Do what’s right for you.’ She necks her wine. ‘Let’s go to a queer bar. It’s too straight in here.’

‘Too straight? You’ve just eye-fucked two women.’

‘I need more than an eye-fuck, mate.’

‘How about I leave you to it and go home?’

‘No!’ she says. ‘I need you to pull the femmes for me.’ She waggles her eyebrows. ‘You know how much I love the femmes.’

I grin. ‘I do.’

‘Femmes love you. They don’t go for me; I’m too pretty. I need you to reel them in with’ – she waves her hand in my direction – ‘this thing you got going on and those eyes – they love them eyes, mate. Then I snag ’em with my prettiness and patter, yeah?’

I can’t help but laugh. ‘Okay. Whatever makes you happy. Let’s go before I change my mind.’

We weave through the pub crowd and head outside. The rain has eased and the grey sky from earlier has darkened. I zip up my jacket as we turn into Brewer Street, busy with Friday night revellers. A couple of women pass and one of them shamelessly runs her eyes over me before flashing me a coy smile.

I nod politely in return, and Jaz nudges me with her hip. ‘That’s what I’m talking about. I need you to help me get the pus-say.’

I tsk. ‘Goodness gracious me.’

Jaz freezes on the footpath outside the bar we’re about to enter, her mouth dropping open. ‘I’m sorry, did you just tsk me and say “goodness gracious me”?’

I press my lips together to suppress the smile and wait for the bollocking coming my way.

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