“It still comes out sometimes, but I try to keep it at bay. Besides, the Brits had so many new ones for me to learn, it became overwhelming. I think wanker is my favorite, it just sums up so much.”
We lapse back into silence as our meal is delivered. Our conversation turns to her work as we eat. When we’re finally done, they clear our plates away, and we decide to share a crème brûlée. After it’s delivered, Sophia digs into it. I watch, entranced as she scoops up a bite, licking it slowly off the spoon.
“I forgot you eat pudding and ice cream like a porn star.”
She grins at me, daintily wiping her mouth with her napkin.
“You know you are the only person who has ever had the balls to point that out, right?”
Watching her eat ice cream always made me wish desperately to be the spoon. An ice cream cone was even better.
“I still stand by my observation.”
“What I should have asked, now that I’ve thought about it,” she says, “is how did you know so much about porn stars.”
“I plead the fifth,” I say, holding up my hand, laughing.
She takes a sip of the coffee we ordered with dessert. When she sets it back on the table, she studies me for a minute.
“I’m so glad we did this. It seems like forever since we hung out.”
“I think it was the summer I was seventeen,” I say. “You had just graduated from college but hadn’t begun your job in New York. The twins had just been born, so I was feeling sorry for myself about being overlooked.”
Rolling my eyes, I add, “I was so badly behaved that Grayson was about at the end of his rope. You were like a breath of fresh air. Even though you were only there for two weeks, we went out every night. Bowling, movies, mini-golf, it didn’t matter as long as it was out of the house.”
“I remember you were so quiet the day before I left,” she says quietly.
“You were like a tornado blowing in that summer. Before I knew it, you were gone, but I stepped up after you left. I stopped giving Grayson such a hard time, got a job, and started trying to help out more around the house. I think Gray and Izzy were always grateful to you. They assumed you had read me the riot act and straightened my ass out.”
“As if anybody could ever get you to behave by reading you the riot act. It was always like waving a red cape in front of you,” she answers with a grin.
“Yeah, I really haven’t changed that much,” I agreed. I pay the check, under protest from Sophia, before wandering outside. Standing awkwardly outside the restaurant, I try to grasp for a reason to stall parting ways. “My apartment is only a couple of blocks over if you’d like to continue our visit. It’s not much, but it’s decent.” I hold my breath as she thinks over her options.
“Sure, why not? I’d love to see your place. Your room was always such a disaster.”
I hold out my hand, the action so natural, I don’t even think about how she will react. As she slides her hand in mine, I can feel my pulse pick up. At this rate, I’ll have completed an entire cardio workout without even walking to the gym. We walk toward my apartment, turning our discussion back to her job.
“Are you actually interviewing Andrew Lloyd Webber?” I ask.
“Later in the week. I have to do some on-location work first.”
We walk in silence as I rack my brain for more to ask.
Finally she says, “I’m still hoping to become a foreign correspondent. I just have to get enough exposure to prove I can do it.”
“I’ve seen you several times reporting. I think you’re very good. I’m sure you’ll get where you want to be sooner rather than later.”
She looks at me in surprise. “Thank you, Teddy. I’ve always thought of you as my biggest fan.”
It surprises me that she thinks of me at all. She lives in the exciting world of news. I’m still in the boring world of finance. My days are filled with thoughts of her, but she is surrounded by exciting, powerful men, any of which could sweep her off her feet.
“This is it, home sweet home.” We’ve reached the perch of the walk-up I’m living in. I open the door, escorting her inside.
My small apartment is on the third floor. It basically consists of one main room with a very small bathroom. I’ve tried to hide the bed in the corner with a screen with minimal results.
There is also a ridiculously tiny kitchenette with a bistro table shoved next to the screen. I usually just eat on the couch while watching TV.
I’ve put up some pictures, including one of Sophia and I smiling arm-in-arm in front of my house the last summer she was home. She looks around my apartment while I wait for her appraisal.
