Page 115 of Still Me
“Wow. Thank you.” I inhaled deeply. “This is the nicest thing that’s happened to me in ages.”
“The flowers? Or me?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Well, I suppose you arequitenice.”
His face fell.
“You’re amazing. And I love them.”
He smiled broadly then and kissed me. “Well, you’re the nicest thing that’s happened to me in ages,” he said softly when he pulled back. “Feels like I waited a long time for you, Louisa.”
“We only met in October.”
“Ah. But we live in an age of instant gratification. And we’re in the city where anything you want you get yesterday.”
There was a strange potency to being wanted as much as Josh seemed to want me. I wasn’t quite sure what I’d done to deserve it. I wanted to ask him what he saw in me but I suspected it would sound oddly needy to say it aloud so I tried to work it out in other ways.
“Tell me about the other women you’ve dated,” I said from the sofa, as he moved around the little kitchenette, pulling out plates and cutlery and glasses. “What were they like?”
“Aside from Tinder hookups? Smart, pretty, usually successful...” He stooped to pull a bottle of fish sauce from the back of a cupboard.“But honestly? Like self-obsessed,” he said. “Like they couldn’t be seen without perfect makeup, or they would have a total meltdown if their hair wasn’t right, and everything had to be Instagrammed or photographed or reported on social media and presented in the best light. Including dates with me. Like they could never drop their guard.”
He straightened up, holding bottles. “You want chili sauce? Or soy? I dated one girl who used to check what time I was getting up each day and set her alarm for half an hour before just so she could fix her hair and makeup. Just so I would never see her not looking perfect. Even if it meant getting up at, like, four thirty.”
“Okay. I’m going to warn you now, I’m not that girl.”
“I know that, Louisa. I’ve put you to bed.”
I kicked off my shoes and folded my legs under me. “I suppose it’s kind of impressive that they put in so much effort.”
“Yeah. But it can be a little exhausting. And you never feel quite like... like you know what’s really underneath. With you, I have to say, it’s all pretty much out there. You are who you are.”
“Should I take that as a compliment?”
“Sure. You’re like the girls I grew up with. You’re honest.”
“The Gopniks don’t think so.”
“Fuck them.” His voice was uncharacteristically harsh. “You know, I’ve been thinking about it. You can prove you didn’t do what they said you did—right? So you should sue them for unfair dismissal and loss of reputation and hurt feelings and—”
I shook my head.
“Seriously. Gopnik trades on this reputation of being a decent, old-fashioned, good guy in business and he’s always doing stuff for charity, but he fired you fornothing, Louisa. You lost your job and your home with no warning and no compensation.”
“He thought I was stealing.”
“Yeah, but he must know there was something not quite right about what he was doing or he would have called the cops. Given who he is, I’d bet there’s some lawyer who would take this on a no-win-no-fee basis.”
“Really. I’m fine. Lawsuits aren’t my style.”
“Yeah, well. You’re too nice. You’re beingEnglishabout it.”
The doorbell rang. Josh held up a finger, as if to say we wouldcontinue this conversation. He disappeared into the narrow hallway and I heard him paying the delivery boy while I finished laying the little table.
“And you know what?” he said, bringing the bag into the kitchen. “Even if you didn’t have evidence I’d bet Gopnik would pay a lump sum just to stop the whole thing getting into the papers. Think what that could do for you. I mean, a couple of weeks ago you were sleeping on someone’s floor.” (I hadn’t told him about sharing Nathan’s bed.)
“This could get you a decent deposit on a rental. Hell, you get a good enough lawyer, this could buy you an apartment. You know how much money Gopnik has? Like, he isfamouslyrich. In a city of seriously rich people.”
“Josh, I know you mean well but I just want to forget it.”
