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We have a standing monthly Sunday afternoon boozy brunch date we started when I moved to London. I strip quickly and step into the bathroom while Cara rifles through my closet. When I step out she is lounging on my bed and grinning at me like a cat who just drank a bowl full of cream.
“What the hell are you grinning at?” I ask as I dig through my drawer for my underwear and bra. When I turn around, she is just eyeing me and not saying a word.
“What?” I growl, exasperated at her being so cryptic.
“Simon’s been texting,” she says in a singsong voice as she holds up my phone.
I forget getting dressed and snatch my phone from her. She laughs like a loon while I scroll through my messages.
Simon has sent four texts since I stepped into the shower.
Simon: Hey, Addie, it’s Simon. Great to see you last night. You looked amazing. Do you have plans for lunch today?
Simon: I’m free until about 5pm.
Simon: I could meet you somewhere nearer your place, Russell Square?
Simon: Let me know.
And apparently, I’ve replied.
Me: My Old Dutch, Holborn. One hour. Bring Louis for Cara.
Glaring at Cara, I have to stop myself from throwing my phone at her. “What the fuck, Cara?”
She looks at me and has the decency to blush. “Sorry, Ad, but I knew you wouldn’t respond. So I decided to do it for you. You haven’t stopped thinking about this guy. Apparently, you saw him last night and gave him your number. Stop being
so damn stubborn. You haven’t gotten laid once since you’ve lived in London; you’re starting to worry me.”
“Worry you? Because I’m not fucking anyone? Really?” I look at her incredulously as I bend to pick up the clothes I dropped when I reached for my phone.
“Yes, Addie. I’m not advocating for you to become a raging nympho, but you seem to be closing yourself off even more now than you did in undergrad.”
I’m not closing myself off. I am just doing what I have to do. What no one else can do for me. I am trying to build a life and a career.
But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want Simon. He’s hot and from what I can tell, he’s a good balance of alpha and nice guy. Though, I can’t get distracted, and I can tell he would do just that. Still, what harm can brunch do?
“Fine. I hope he brings Louis and makes this worth all of your scheming.”
Cara only laughs as she runs to my bathroom to touch up her make up.
August 31, 2014
After I get Addie’s brief but direct text, I immediately call Louis and ask him to meet me at Holborn station in an hour. He doesn’t even ask why, he just says, “See ya.”
Louis and I have been mates since our days at Harrow, an exclusive all boys boarding school. We couldn’t be more different. He comes from a family of land owning Brits, who have been here since The Conqueror’s days, and is part of large, supportive, and loving family. I was abandoned by my Ghanaian father and raised by my single British mother, who, like my sister, is in jail.
I was at Harrow on a scholarship. He was a legacy. When we were paired as roommates, I was sure we’d end up beating each other to death. Instead, we discovered our love for all things Tolkien, we have been like brothers ever since.
An hour later, I step out onto Holborn High Road, the traffic is heavy and the air is heavy with smell of cars, the food vendors that line up outside the station and of the people lined up on the station wall smoking. That is where I see Louis. He is leaning on the side of the station wall, smoking a cigarette with his eyes glued to his phone. It’s an unseasonably hot day and in his shorts and T-shirt he looks like a student rather than the award winning set designer he is.
“Hey, man.” I say as I clap him on the back. He looks up and greets me with his trademark smirk.
“What’s up, Crusher?” Louis still calls me the nickname I earned at Harrow for my dominance on the Rugby field.
“Listen, I am meeting Addie here, and she asked me to bring you to keep Cara company. So, don’t fuck this up for me. Just be nice and act like you’ve got some fucking manners.”
“Well, shit. Nice to see you, too. What do you think? I was raised by wolves?” His laugh is slightly sinister while he slaps me on the shoulder. “I actually like Cara, but I don’t fuck dancers in the company. It’s too close to home.” He takes a final drag of his cigarette and stubs it out as we cross the street to the restaurant.
