Page 5 of The Wedding Game

I smile. He’s very quick. ‘No, I really live there. How long have you lived in New York?’

‘About three years.’

‘Why?’

‘Why do I live there or why have I lived there for three years?’

‘Both,’ I clarify.

‘We’re really in small-talk territory now,’ he says. ‘I got a job there.’

‘Doing what?’ I fire back.

‘Property.’

‘I need more information.’

‘I work for a boutique-hotel chain,’ he says.

‘Still more detail needed …’

A smile lifts the corners of his mouth. ‘We do up old properties and turn them into boutique hotels. I fit them out.’

I stare. ‘That’s my dream job.’

He frowns. ‘For real? That’s no one’s dream job.’

‘Interior design.’

‘Oh, that’s not what I do. I do the technical bit.’

‘Ohhh,’ I draw out the word. ‘You do the boring bit.’

‘Ha! If you like. So you’re into interior design?’ Chris asks.

‘I’m absolutely into interior design. I’m desperate to get an interior design job.’

‘Huh, well, I know people who could help,’ he says cryptically.

‘Interior-design people?’ I ask hopefully.

‘I knowaninterior designer. Does that count?’

‘Maybe,’ I muse. ‘Although it doesn’t matter, because I’m not actually an interior designer, so no one would hire me. You’re of zero use to me. It was nice to meet you, though. Bye.’

He laughs. ‘You want to be one, though?’

‘I do. When I become a proper adult.’

‘Ha! How old are you?’

‘Thirty-one. You?’

‘Thirty-five.’

‘Hmm, not married by thirty-five,’ I comment with a suspicious expression.

‘I wasn’t aware there was a time limit.’

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