Page 57 of The Moon Also Rises
“Listen, you don’t have to come. I can easily make excuses for you. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“I’d love to come,” Rami says and when the words land with me, I feel my stomach flip.
“You would?”
“Sure.” Rami shrugs. “They’re nice people. You can be nice, sometimes. And I’m very curious about your place now I know you have six months’ worth of Elle Décor andHomes & Gardensmagazines.”
I search Rami’s features for a few seconds, trying to find a slither of panic or a hint of reluctance about doing this whole fake boyfriend thing again, but I find nothing but relaxed features and a soft lift in the corners of his mouth. “But do we… We would… Do you want to do the whole pretending thing again?”
“I suppose we’d have to,” he replies, still calm and composed.
“This would be a lot more intense,” I say, noticing how the flip in my gut has now turned into churning but I can’t discern if I’m anxious about the prospect of pretending Rami and I are together, or if it’s panic at the possibility Rami will change his mind. Still, I give him one more chance to do just that. “We don’t have a whole crowd of other people to disappear into. There would be questions. We would need to get some of our ducks and fucks in a row. We would have to… maybe… do stuff in front of Lionel and Luigi.”
Rami pulls his head back. “Wait? What kind of stuff? Are they swingers?”
“Jesus, no. I mean, I don’t know, but I assume not. Perfectly fine if they are, of course,” I quickly add.
“Quite right.” Rami nods. “No judgment here, just not sure I’m down for it myself. I’m a pretty monogamous kind of guy.”
That really shouldn’t have me feeling warm and light-headed, but it does. I flutter it away with my eyelashes.
“I just meant maybe some hand-holding, some innocent pecks on the forehead or something along those lines. And you’d have to show that you’re comfortable in my place. You know? That you maybe know roughly where everything is. It’s not big, so that should be easy enough.”
“Jake,” Rami pushes off the table and steps closer, “I am okay with it, if you are. I know your friendship with Lionel is important to you.”
“It is,” I admit. “But I promise, after their honeymoon, I’ll tell them we’re over.”
Rami looks at the floor for a beat before a small smile stretches his mouth flat. “Sounds good.”
“Okay, well, great. I appreciate it,” I say pulling my phone out to text Lionel.
“But on one condition,” Rami adds quickly pulling my eyes back to him.
“What’s that?” I ask tentatively.
“You and I are going to find a home for your newly organised magazines today. And we’ll also file all this other paperwork. Together. While we also get our, what did you say? Ducks and fucks in a row?”
I pout at him because I’m sure that’s what he expects. “Fine, Mr Type A.”
He nods and smiles at me, his mouth opening to say something but Sharon stops him by barging through the door.
“Here you go, bitches. Your tea. Made with zero love and a million scowls.” Sharon puts our cups down in our respective workplaces. “Now get back to work, you lazy men-creatures.”
As Sharon leaves the room, Rami and I smile at each other in a way that could be described as collusive. I try to drop my grin quickly as I turn my eyes back to my computer, but I know it sticks around for a long time.
Chapter Seventeen
Jake
Iwasn’t going to drink before my guests arrived. That was my intention all day. But then I made the mistake of emptying my mailbox and well, everything changed.
There’s a reason I hardly ever check that bastard mailbox. It brings me nothing but bad news and today that comes in the form of three letters, all with panic-inducing red stamps and words like URGENT and NOT A CIRCULAR printed in capital letters on the front.
But I have a solution for these kinds of problems and I only have to have them feel hot and heavy in my hands for a few minutes as I carry them upstairs to my flat. Once inside, I dump my keys and bag and then take the offending envelopes with me to my bedroom. After opening up my wardrobe and pulling out the Louis Vuitton shoe box that once housed my favourite suede loafers, I think briefly about opening the letters before I stash them with their many, many friends inside. Perhaps it would do me some good to know what kind of amount I currently owe two of my credit cards and the store card I can’t honestly remember opening.
A second later, I come to my senses. No, that would not help anything. That would almost certainly mean descending into a terrible mood that would make this evening even more challenging than it already has the potential to be. No, there is only one thing for it. These letters are to be tucked inside this box with the others, and one day, soon, perhaps, when I feel strong enough, I will deal with them all.
And that’s how I solve that problem. That and by pouring myself a very sizeable glass of wine that gave me a boost of energy to whizz around my kitchen, joint dining-living area, bathroom and two bedrooms with a duster and a hoover in record time.
