Page 19 of A Very Happy Easter

And it was only Tuesday.

Where was I even supposed to start?

The presentation. I’d start with the presentation. I wasn’t ashamed to use my position in society to cadge funding for Vocare, and a not-insignificant part of our income came from family trusts and wealthy benefactors looking for tax breaks. A word in the right ear, and a wife would encourage her husband to donate to “Edie’s little project,” and the men would do that because forking over money to a good cause made them look benevolent when it came to the “who ponies up the most” dick-measuring contests at social gatherings. Plus they got tax breaks. Don’t forget the tax breaks.

Next Monday, I had to give members of the Winthrop family an update on our work over a nice lunch at the Penhaligon Club and in return, I hoped they’d fund two more refuge spaces for a year.

My phone buzzed as I was tweaking the information sheet I’d leave with them.

Heath

Turns out a lot of people like avocado toast. I’m the most popular guy in the office.

Me

Guess the bar’s pretty low then? Avocado is literally the worst fruit.

Heath

Tell me you’ve never eaten a lychee without telling me you’ve never eaten a lychee.

Me

What’s wrong with lychees? They’re so innocuous.

Heath

They’re weird.

Me

Speaking of weird, how’s the roommate search going?

A guy had come to view the place last night, I knew that much. Heath said the man couldn’t make eye contact and reeked of weed, and when he broached the subject of illegal substances, the douche offered to sell him some. So that was a “no.”

Heath

Matt from Islington emailed to ask if I’d be okay with his girlfriends staying over.

Me

Girlfriends? Plural? That wasn’t a typo?

Heath

Apparently not.

Me

Do they know about each other?

Heath

Oh yeah. Three women, all there at the same time. Place doesn’t have enough soundproofing for that.

Me

Yikes.

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