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Bridget’s chinhits the floor. “Youwhat?!”
“Not so loud.” I grit my teeth as I look around us.
“You and Edwin–”
“Bridget!”
Bridget looks around the restaurant. “Oh relax, no one is listening.”
“You don’t know that for sure.” I lean forward, wanting to keep this conversation as private as possible with Ms. Blabbermouth in front of me.
If we were in a restaurant in Queens or even the Lower East Side, I wouldn’t be so on edge. But we’re at a restaurant in SoHo where the plates are all upwards of forty dollars and with the kind of clientele that hangs every day at the club. Who knows who might be listening to us?
“Tell me more, tell me more.” Bridget ignores my concern.
I shrug. “That’s it. That’s all.”
“You mean, you two haven’t slept together again?”
“Not soloud!”
“Oh my gosh, Sonia! If you were so worried about beingoverheard, you shouldn’t have told me about this affair with Edwin–”
“It’s not an affair!”
“In arestaurant. Time and place!” My friend has on a minx-ish smile as she sips her wine.
I run my hand through my hair. It’s oily. Needs a wash when I get home. I came here right from the club.
I hadn’t anticipated on telling her about my encounter with Edwin yesterday or the way he chased me down today, but the second we were settled in and had our drinks, I burst at the seams and told her that Edwin and I…well, fucked doesn’t even seem like the right way to put it. Because what happened between us was something spiritual.
I discovered so much about myself. What I like. And he took me there.
“Okay, so it’s not an affair.” She’s sawing off a piece of the thickest asparagus I’ve ever seen. “Then what is it?”
My stomach flips. “I think it’s more. Because…well, Edwin said as much.”
“EdwinLyonssaid he wants more?!”
I nod.
“That’s…insane.”
“Am I stupid for believing him?”
Bridget shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. Because I don’t know if Edwin has ever been capable of saying something like that. Mind you, all I hear is through the grapevine from my dad and sometimes Seth, but…”
I wince at the mention of Seth.
Apparently, her stepbrother didn’t tell her about our weird flirtation at the bar.
And that’s something I will take to my grave. I don’t need Bridget freaking out that I might take her stepbrotherinto The Underground and let him do wicked things to me.
“I’m not surprised it’s you. I’m just surprised it’sanyone.”
We are both quiet, the buzz of the restaurant making up for our silence.
“How does that make you feel? That he might want more?” Her tone bears no judgment. Just a question.
