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Responsibilities especially so.
Agreed. But I can’t be your pet forever.
Why tho
My life’s a mess. I need to sort it out. Go back to school. Get a real job. Pay bills.
Why tho
Stop it
Henderson will look after you tonight and let me know when you’re on your way back to the hotel. I’ll meet you there.
I might be drunk.
I’ll make sure to take full advantage.
Looking forward to your A-game.
Oh, yes, I’m going to bring it.
Henderson really doesn’t have to come. It’ll be weird. I’ll be fine without him.
I insist.
We need to talk about your paranoia.
No, we don’t.
What do you think will happen to me without a bodyguard?
I don’t care to find out.
You’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.
I love it when you objectify me.
Good. There will be more objectification tonight.
In the meantime, Henderson will look after you.
If you’re so paranoid, why do you trust Henderson?
Long story.
Wanna hear it.
Okay, but not now. Just pulling up. All you need to know about H for now is that he’s like a brother to me, and I trust him with my life.
Have a good meeting. Hope you make loads of money or whatever it is you do.
The former. x
I quickly google the Chinese restaurants nearby. Then I think, why narrow it down to Asian? In fact, why narrow it down to Chinatown? We could go anywhere. Anywhere within reason. The fancy-pants places will all be booked out months in advance, but there must be somewhere interesting to go. I scroll through the top-rated casual restaurants with dinner openings until something catches my eye. Urchin is a pop-up Japanese fusion place in Boxpark Shoreditch that serves sushi on an ice bar. The prices look high but not outrageous. In other words, I would never be able to afford it myself, but I know Alistair wouldn't bat an eyelid at the price of the tuna sashimi. At the same time, it doesn't look overtly fabulous—and by that, I mean way out of my or Becks’s comfort zone. Shoreditch is our kind of place.
Perfect. I book it and send the location pin to Becks, who emoji-screams in delight.
I don't have a yoga class to teach today, so I'm not sure what to do. If I were at home, I'd be cleaning my flat, researching new classes to take, and avoiding my bills. I’m not looking forward to going back home once my time here is over. My flat in Camden never felt like home to me. My family home, where my parents still live, was always so lovely and warm and full of interesting knickknacks from their quirky experiences and travels. Walking into that house always gives me a powerful feeling of happy nostalgia for the childhood we had there. And my parents still treat my brother and me like children, in a way. There are always lots of embraces and questions about how we are doing, how we are really doing, while Mum harvests things from her vegetable garden, and Dad cooks delicious food. Then there’s always a scuffed container of biscuits to take home, or a hand-knitted scarf. It’s like walking into a hug.
