Page 87 of That Reunited Feeling

“And that’s it?” Hugo drops his fork onto his plate with a clang and slams himself back in his seat, palms to the ceiling, brows furrowed. “Just fucking geography?”

The door at the far end of the room opens and Hannah reappears.

“Forget it,” I tell him. “And shut up.”

“Best batter in town.” Hugo points at Hannah’s fish as she retakes her seat. “When you’ve tried as many as I have, you knowwhen you’ve foundthe one.” He shoots me a look. “And thenyou stop searching.”

I roll my eyes at him as Hannah focuses on her late lunch.

The apparently perfect batter crackles as she sticks her knife and fork in it. “Excellent. Apparently international travel makes me constantly hungry.”

“And you’re going to love what you’re doing next,” Hugo says.

Hannah widens her eyes at him as she scoops up a forkful of pure white fish and sparkling batter. “You know what we’re doing!”

“Hugo,” I warn him, “if you spoil this, I’ll trash your other knee.”

Hannah nudges me. “When are you going to tell me?” she asks.

“When we get there.”

“Oh, God.” Hannah points at her mouth, and her eyes drift half shut at the deliciousness it contains. “You’re right, Hugo. This is definitely the one.”

Hugo smirks at me.

26

TOM

“H

ugo seemed fun,” Hannah says as Hermann drives us through Knightsbridge. “Like someone who’s full of bravado on the outside, but a loyal friend who would die for you on the inside.”

“I hope you nailed the personalities of those assistant candidates as accurately as that, because that’s Hugo to a T.” I lace fingers with the woman I admire more and more not just every passing day, but every passing hour. “He was putting on a brave face just now, because you were there. But I’m worried about him. Having to give up the sport that’s the only life he’s ever known overnight—that must be tough to deal with.”

“His knee will get better though, right?” Hannah’s face is full of concern for the person she only just met.

“Better enough for general life. Not better enough for football.”

“Oh, how sad.”

She’s silent for a moment as she gazes out at the passing designer stores and classic London architecture.

“This city is amazing,” she says almost to herself.

“I do love it here. I mean, where Maggie and Jim are now is full of charm and everything. But I could never live in a little village like that. Guess growing up in Boston made me a city guy.”

She turns her attention from the outside world to me. “As long as that city isn’t LA though, right?”

The reminder that we’ll soon be half a world apart is a punch to the gut, especially when I’m so excited about the evening ahead. But I play along with it, with what I hope looks like an amused smile. “It’s a fucking hellhole.”

“What exactly is it you hate about it so much?”

“Okay.” I hold up my other hand, ready to count off my points on my fingers. “You can’t walk anywhere. But also the traffic’s horrific, so driving is a shit show. Everyone says they’re ‘in the industry,’ even if they’re actually a plumber.” That’s a thumb and two fingers. “All the super rich live in these ridiculous gated communities. There’s a whole separate underclass of underpaid service people.”

“And the Lakers,” Hermann pipes up. “Don’t forget the Lakers.”

“Oh yeah. Thanks, Herm.” I let go of Hannah’s hand and bring my other fingers into the counting. “The Lakers are really bloody annoying.”

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