Page 63 of After Felix
A voice interrupts my thoughts. “Excuse me. Could you take a photo?”
I smile at the man standing in front of me. He’s holding a copy of Max’s book and his phone. “You want a picture? With me? How lovely.”
“Oh, no.” He wavers.
“With him?” I say, taking pity on him and gesturing at Max.
“Oh yes,” he says, nodding enthusiastically.
“Well, I can try,” I say doubtfully. “Has your phone got a wide-angled lens on it?” He stares at me, and I lean closer in a confiding way. “I mean his head is quite large. Not to mention his ears.Abnormallylarge. He’s like Dumbo in a certain light.”
Max senses my attention and looks up. I’m glad to see the wariness in his expression.
I smile at him brightly. “Max, let’s have a photo.”
He quickly obliges, putting his arm over the man’s shoulder andlistening to something he’s saying with a focused expression and responding in a way that makes the young man relax and laugh loudly.
“Isn’t he marvellous?”
I turn and find a beautiful lady standing next to me. She’s watching Max with a very predatory expression on her face.
I bite my lip. “In a spirit of total honesty, I would have to say no.”
She looks stunned. “What?”
“He never puts his clothes away. He’s an unrepentant tart.” I pause, considering. “Well,slightlyrepentant,” I say grudgingly.
“But he’s so handsome. And he escaped the hostage situation. That was brave.”
“Didhe escape, or had they been subjected to his personality for over three hours?” I seesaw my hands. “Who really knows the truth?”
There’s a choked snort from behind me, and when I look round, Max is grinning at me. It’s a truly wonderful sight, and the woman seems suitably awed. I meanwhile try to dismiss my increased heart rate as being due to my allergy medication.
The morning passes quickly, and I find myself pressed into taking hundreds of pictures. It’s certainly given me a knowledge of phone cameras. Just in case I ever go into phone photography as a career. The queue slowly dwindles as we approach lunch, and I sit beside Max, having been given control of the sticky notes by Paula.
I’m trying not to let the power go to my head while attempting to look important and knowledgeable when Max suddenly stiffens as though he’s had an electric shock.
“What’s up with you?” I ask. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Nothing,” he says in a slightly panicked voice.
My gaze falls on the man waiting next in the queue. He’s absolutely gorgeous. Tall and willowy with long blond hair and a stunning face.
“Shit,” Max mutters.
“Do you know him?” I whisper.
“Oh, erm no, I—” His flinch is visible as Paula moves the queue along and the man slinks up to the table.
“Hello,” I say, smiling at the man. “What would you like written in your book?”
He grins at me. His eyes are a clear green, and his skin is a warm golden colour. He extends his smile to Max. Max has gone pale and looks like he’s a second away from bolting.
“Hello, Max,” the man drawls. “How extraordinarily precious to see you again. But unfortunately with your clothes on this time.” He presents his book with a dramatic flourish. “Please could the dedication in my book read, ‘The time spent between your legs, Xavier, was the most sublime moment of my life’.” He pauses as I gape at him. “Oh, and sign it ‘Love, snookums’.” He turns to me with a very charming smile. “It’s Xavier with an ‘X’.”
I look down at my pen as if it’s a foreign object.
“Oh,” I say faintly. “Well, it certainly sounds like Max should know how to spell your name.” I signal to Paula. “I’m going to take a smoking break.”
