It didn’t work.
“I... can try and explain my art to you,” I offered, just for something to say. In my head, Sam’s voice shouted,Bad idea, bad idea, like a warning klaxon. I ignored it. Quite frankly, in that moment I didn’t care if it was a bad idea. My heart was racing, blood pumping hot inside my veins. “If you want.”
He hesitated, still not looking at me. He shook his head.
“That is probably not a good idea,” he said, echoing the voice in my head. “I suspect I am a rather hopeless case when it comes to modern art.”
I could sense that he was trying to put some distance between us after... well, after whatever it was that had just happened. I didn’t want him to.
“I’ve never met anyone who’s a hopeless case.”
His eyes fluttered closed.
“You have never met anyone like me, Miss Greenberg,” he said, sounding almost sad about it, before turning and walking out of my bedroom.
It was another few minutes before I was able to collect myself enough to think straight. When I did, I sank to my bed, burying my face in my hands.
Sam’s words of warning from the other day suddenly came back to me:Living with someone you think is hot never ends well. You either end up sleeping with them—which is a huge mistake, nine times out of ten—or else you drive yourself nuts because youwantto sleep with them.
I groaned.
Well, it looked like Sam had been right.
What the hell was I going todo?
SIX
Letter from Mr. Frederick J. Fitzwilliam to Mrs. Edwina Fitzwilliam, dated October 26
My Dearest Mrs. Fitzwilliam,
I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits.
A lot has changed in the fortnight since I last wrote. I now live with a young woman by the name of Miss Cassie Greenberg. I am learning a tremendous amount about art, twenty-first-century popular culture, profanity, and attire simply by observing her and being in her very occasional presence. Every day I feel more myself again, and more at ease in this strange modern world.
And so again I ask: please stop worrying so much over me. There is no need for you to write so often, nor for you to repeatedly inquire after my health with Reginald. (Yes, he has told me everything.) I am as sound in mind, body, and spirit as I have ever been.
Furthermore, I must insist you end the arrangementyou have made with Miss Jameson on my behalf. I hardly know this woman, and, as you well know, Paris was over a century ago. I would end the arrangement myself, but I think that would not only be unwise, but also unfair to both me and Miss Jameson. Please also ask Miss Jameson to stop sending me gifts. She has ignored my entreaties even though I have sent each gift back to her, unopened as they arrive.
I will write more soon. Give my regards to everyone on the estate. I hope the weather in New York has been very fine.
Love,
Frederick
Hey Frederick,
Would it be okay if I turned the temperature in the apartment up a few degrees? I haven’t wanted to say anything about it since you pay for utilities, but it’s a little colder in here than I’m used to. Even three blankets isn’t cutting it at nighttime.
Cassie
Dear Cassie,
Please accept my apology. Cold temperatures do not bother me the way they do other people, and I should have anticipated you would prefer a warmer place to live. Letme know the temperature I should set the thermostat to for you to be more comfortable and I will take care of it.
I wish you had said something about this to me earlier. I hate the idea that you’ve been uncomfortable since moving in.
FJF