“It’s complicated,” she said, feeling a tug of emotion behind her eyes and trying to blink it away.
“Don’t settle, otherwise you might as well have settled for me.” He grinned, putting an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into him. “I know you, you want the fairy tale.”
“You know, I just worked out who you look like,” she said, keen to change the subject. “Henry Golding’s less hot brother.”
“I will take that,” Sean said, laughing. “He is a lovely man.”
“All right, name-dropper.”
“You named him, not me!” Sean said, mouth open wide in indignation.
“The level of name-dropping going on last night was obscene.”
“People were asking me questions!” he said, laughing, as he pushed her off the path. “Fine, no more name-dropping. My good friend Adam Sandler told me it’s not cool.”
She laughed, then remembered the script in her bag. She should mention it now while she had the chance. It felt like hewould read it if she asked him to. But now she didn’t want to taint this moment. This fragile tendril of friendship, which had stretched here from the past, felt too precious to disrupt. Plus, now the picnickers had come into view and her eyes darted around, searching for a gray dog.
17
The picnic was in fullswing, though there was no sign of John or Richard. Brightly colored blankets were laid across the grass overlapping one another, anchored at the corners with tote bags, trainers, and coolers. Everyone had brought a contribution: there were punnets of cherry tomatoes, store-bought dips, crusty baguettes, and wedges of cheese sweating slightly in the sun. The air was full of chatter and laughter. Shoes had been kicked off, and half-finished conversations drifted from one cluster of friends to another. Elaine was passing around plastic cups and elderflower fizz, while Mark Patel uncorked a bottle of champagne. It looked like every student picnic Chloe had ever been to, barring the champagne.
Sean was immediately intercepted by Matteo, who wanted to quiz Sean on getting his cousin work experience on a film set.Chloe left them talking and headed over to Rob, who was helping Amara plate up some sausage rolls. She smiled when she saw him, all her fond feelings returning. Though she hoped his social battery was sufficiently charged to deal with all these people. When Rob saw her, his eyes lit up, he shot her a beaming smile, then he stopped what he was doing and strode across the grass to meet her.
“You look radiant,” he said, putting an arm around her as they walked back toward the main group. “How did it go with Sean? Did you get to pitch him the script?”
“It was good, we had a good catch-up. But it didn’t feel like the right time to mention it.”
“Great,” he said, ever supportive. Then he leaned in to kiss her. When she stepped back, she saw Elaine watching them, one palm pressed to her chest, making a doe-eyed “Aren’t they cute” expression. Sean’s words echoed in her ears.Couldthere be a fairy tale that ended “happily ever after with her robot boyfriend”? Because she liked having him around. She liked how he made her feel.
As she took Rob’s hand and they walked back toward the picnic rugs, she thought about going running with him in Richmond Park. How safe she’d felt. She thought about how good it was to be the one in control, to know he wasn’t going to get angry with her, that he was on her side. Because whatever these new feelings for John were, they felt unwieldy, out of her control. It didn’t feel safe.
Lorna and Harriet waved Chloe over to join their group on the far side of the rug. Lorna had her hair in a ponytail and a pair of oversized sunglasses perched on her head. She wore a crisp white polo shirt, and her long tanned legs stretched out beneath a fitted navy skort. Harriet’s dark bob was pulled backwith an Alice band, and she wore high-waisted black Lululemons and a loose gray tank top, falling off one shoulder to reveal a neon-yellow sports bra.
“Chloe, I was talking to Rob before you arrived, and I have to say it’s so rare to find a man so well informed,” Harriet said as they sat down. “Did you know he can recite every American president and every British prime minister, in order, and he didn’t even study politics?”
Mark Patel had come over to offer everyone champagne. He was wearing jean shorts and a T-shirt that readNever Trust an Atom, They Make Up Everything.“You got a photographic memory or something?” he asked.
“No, just good recall,” Rob said. “I guess it’s the way I’m wired.”
“Ha ha!” Chloe let out a high-pitched laugh. “Oh look, someone brought a Colin the Caterpillar cake, I love Colin the Caterpillar, don’t you? So retro,” Chloe said, anxious to move the conversation on from Rob’s uncanny intelligence. “Rob, do you want to see if anyone has a knife, so we can cut up the watermelon we brought?”
“Sure thing,” he said, leaping up.
Harriet’s eyes followed Rob. “He’s so interested in everything, isn’t he?” she said, pulling a lip gloss from her purse, then slowly applying it. “I think your boyfriend might already know more than my husband does about the online diploma I want to do.”
“It’s like this in the beginning,” said Lorna, tugging at the top of her ponytail to make it tighter. “They’re still in the first flush. Men pretend to be interested at the start. When Matteo and I first met, he was so sweet, he sent an Uber to collect me so I didn’t have to walk to the station in heels. Isn’t that the cutest?”
“What, and he doesn’t do that now?” Salma asked. She’d been standing nearby and now sat down beside Lorna to join their conversation, helping herself to the elderflower fizz. She was wearing a long-sleeved blue maxi dress, cinched at the waist with a belt, and a pink hijab framing her face.
“We have a driver now, so…,” Lorna said. “But you know what I mean.”
“Lorna, I can’t believe you have two million followers,” Salma said to Lorna. “That’s nuts.”
“It’s not an easy thing to do,” Lorna said. “You need to be committed. I wake up and do two reels before breakfast, which means full makeup, hair, a nice outfit—it’s a commitment. Our house represents my brand, so it has to look immaculate. Sometimes I just yearn to be a slobby housewife like everyone else.”
“Thanks,” said Harriet, giving Salma a look.
“Not you specifically, your house is lovely, Haz. But you have children, so it’s not surprising that it can’t be spotless,” Lorna said.
