Page 6 of You Had Me at Chateau
He smiles briefly, almost flirting with the idea that he might be joking, before snapping back to his straight face.
‘Are they real glasses?’ he asks.
‘Yep,’ I reply, reaching behind my ear to wiggle the arm on one side, making my glasses bounce on my nose.
‘I mean, do you genuinely need them?’ he clarifies.
‘Only if I want to see,’ I reply, trying to joke away the awkward vibes. ‘I’m good, until about arm’s length, and then things get blurry.’
‘I wear contact lenses,’ he tells me, and somehow it sounds like a suggestion.
‘I gave them a go but I couldn’t get on with them,’ I confess. ‘I could get them in okay, but I found getting them out at the end of the day a nightmare.’
‘I find that glasses aren’t always appropriate,’ he points out.
‘Oh?’ is all I can think to say.
‘Yeah, I mean, come on, are you planning on wearing them on your wedding day?’ he replies.
‘Steady on, buddy, it’s only our first date,’ I joke. ‘But, hey, at least the frames are white.’
Ray pulls a face.
‘Not that I’m asking, but it’s good to know these things,’ he explains. ‘Dating in your thirties isn’t easy, is it?’
I feel that.
‘It’s a bit like trying to do your present shopping on Christmas Eve,’ he continues. ‘All the good stuff is gone, so you just have to make do with whatever is left.’
I’m relieved when a waiter turns up with our drinks and our charcuterie board because, again, I cannot tell if Ray is joking or not, but hemustbe.
‘Wow, this looks so good,’ I tell him.
Ray takes a sip of his drink and pulls a bit of a face.
‘The drink is… interesting,’ he replies.
This is not going well at all, is it? Perhaps if I try something else.
‘So, what do you write?’ I ask him.
‘Novels, like you,’ he replies. ‘Well, not exactly like you, obviously. I write historical fiction so it’s a lot more involvedthan just coming up with the stories. It requires extensive research – trips to the library, to historic sites, to interview experts.’
‘I love a research trip,’ I reply.
‘Yeah, but I’m talking real ones, not visiting a beach for “inspo”, for wherever you’re setting your latest roll around in the sand,’ he replies. ‘It’s not that I don’t do sex but, when I do, it’s not for fun.’
I know that he’s referring to sex in his books but, honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if that carried into real life too.
‘I don’t really write sex scenes,’ I confess.
‘I thought you wrote romance?’ he asks, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.
‘I do,’ I reply.
‘But… no sex? I thought that’s what these books were all about?’ he says, and I can tell from his tone that he means it.
‘I mean, I think of myself as more of a comedy writer than a romance writer,’ I tell him. ‘It just so happens that my books have a strong romance arc, so marketing them as romcoms is the best way to go – well, that’s what my publishers tell me.’
