Page 20 of We Used To Be Magic

‘We’re going to be in magazines.’

‘Yep,’ Marika says. Then she takes a sip of her drink – or at least I think she does. Maybe she’s just trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, threatening to betray that she’s just as wildly, painfully ecstatic as me.

EZRA

IT’S HER.HOLYSHIT,IT’S HER.

‘What are you staring at?’ Mac asks, sidling up beside me. I quickly avert my eyes – not quickly enough, apparently. His face splits into a grin.

‘Ah,’ he says. ‘Sequins or silk?’

‘Sequins. I mean – her name is Audrey.’

‘No way. You know her?’

‘Barely,’ I say, glancing sideways to check she’s still there. ‘We met at the restaurant. She’s a model.’

‘That makes sense. She—’

‘She’s tall and has a perfect face, yes. I’m aware.’

‘Babe, you’re rattled!’ Mac laughs, looking absolutely delighted. ‘Is this acrush?’

‘Fuck off,’ I say hotly. ‘I just didn’t expect to see her again.’

I’d hoped, though, and pretty desperately at that. Imagined scenarios where we bumped into each other again – maybe at the restaurant, but ideally somewhere more neutral, like a coffee shop.Definitelynot at some fancy event where she’s dressed like a goddess and I’m the guy doling out canapés. God, this is humiliating. And what happens if I bowl right up to her and she doesn’t even remember me? Or worse – shedoesremember butpretendsnot to? I might self-combust.

‘What are you waiting for?’ Mac prompts, nudging me. ‘Get on over there.’

‘And say what? “Bruschetta”?’

‘As ice-breakers go, it’s not the worst you could do.’

‘Forget it.’

‘No – here,’ Mac says, taking my tray from me. I watch as he tips the remaining food on to his own and stacks the two.

‘Voilà. You’re free to go.’ He smiles.

I eye the tray, unconvinced. ‘That’s an allergen clusterfuck now. Mine were gluten-free.’

‘Babe. Stop stalling.’

‘I’m not, I just – it’s too weird,’ I say decisively. ‘I can’t.’

‘Why? She already knows you’re a server. And if she blows you off because of it, bullet dodged. What have you got to lose?’

‘This job?’

‘Ohno, this job!’ He gasps, eyes wide with mock horror. ‘This shitty, one-time job that’s practically over already! How will you support your wife and children?’

‘Very good. Have you ever considered acting?’

‘Ha ha. If you don’t go over there, I will.’

‘No!’ I say quickly. ‘No, just – I need a moment. I need a cigarette.’

‘Okay,that’lllose you the job,’ Mac begins, but I’m already walking away. Call it self-preservation, call it nicotine dependency – next thing I know I’m blowing smoke out a window in the staff toilets, regretting just about every life choice I’ve made leading up to this moment.

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