“No. It’s not right for me to skip a question after you shared your story. We, um… I guess we just grew apart.”
“He had different views about the industrialization of the mother country, huh?”
I laugh. “You might say that.”
“What did he do for work?”
“IT.”
“Computers?”
“Internet.”
“I know next to fuckin’ nothin’ about the internet.”
“Me too,” I sigh. “And that never mattered for years, but…” I shrug. “Everything changed. Suddenly, his business had grown too big for our apartment, and then he had an entire office building, and he wanted to party and snort coke on yachts, and…I’m here.” That’s the super condensed version, but all of it’s true.
Sawyer processes what I’ve said with a nod. I can tell from the way he cocks his head that he’s got questions. He doesn’t press me for an answer, though.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he says.
“Me too.”
“And how does Luke factor in?”
“He doesn’t.”
“Doesn’t he?”
Where is Sawyer going with this? “No?”
“Kristen cornered me when I was comin’ back from a swim this mornin’.”
My lip curls. I wonder if she shoulders past him when she hogs the sidewalk. “On one of herwalks, was she?”
He gives a wry smile. I suppose that’s a yes. “She said…” His fingers drum on the steering wheel. “She mentioned seein’ Luke parked outside your place last night.”
“The post office, you mean.”
“No. Your place.”
Why is Kristen gossiping to Sawyer about this? Is she using him to stake her claim in Luke? She’s wasting her time. The chef is hers for taking. I think he’s an okay person, and dinner was fun, but I’m not interested in signing up for another round of emotional turmoil.
“Are you two…” Sawyer shakes his head. “I don’t understand what you two are.”
I twist my skirt into a knot around my fingers. Should I tell him about the arrangement? What will he think of me? That I’m easy? As-l-u-t, like Kristen said? I enjoy sex. It’s the one time my brain shuts off enough for me to justfeel. And Luke is good in bed, even though I delight in telling him otherwise. I don’t want to admit either fact to Sawyer.
“Nothing,” I say. “Luke and I were—weare—nothing.”
“Elsie… Come on…”
“Hedidstop by last night. Not that it’s any of Kristen’s business, but he made me dinner to say sorry.”
“He’s sweet on you.”
I snort.
“Freya said there’s a story in one of the magazines about him, and it mentions you.”
