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Because I’m so startled by his arrogant assumption that I should give him my mother’s number after two nights of … hot sex—I guess that’s what it was, there had been no lovemaking between us—I end up giving it to him. Besides, I’m not even properly awake. So this is officially an ambush of sorts.
‘Now, your best friend’s name and number?’
My eyes widen, but I cave in and give him Anna’s number, too.
‘Right, I’ll get my driver to pick you up and take you wherever you want to go. He’ll be waiting for you in the foyer.’
I shake my head. I just woke up and I’m being steamrolled into agreeing to all kinds of things. ‘Please don’t do that. I’ll just call a taxi.’
‘No you won’t. Brian will take you,’ he says, his jaw hardening.
I cover my eyes. It really is too early to fight with anyone, let alone a juggernaut like him. ‘OK, fine.’
‘I’ll pick you up from your place at eight tonight. Wear your red dress.’
I uncover my eyes. ‘Ah … we’re going out tonight?’
‘It’s Saturday. What else would we do?’
His phone must have buzzed in his pocket. He takes it, looks at it, and raises his eyebrow enquiringly at me. I shrug to indicate that he’s welcome to take the call. He presses the button and listens to a woman’s laughing voice saying something. I immediately turn my eyes away from him and pretend to be very interested in a ray of sunshine that’s pouring in through the curtains, which he must have partially opened.
My stomach’s churning with a mixture of hurt, shame and fury. What a sick bastard. As if he had to bloody take the call in front of me while I’m lying naked in his bed still smelling of sex with him. I don’t let any of my feelings show on my face, though. He wants us to be enemies who fuck? Sure, I can do that. In the end, he’ll be the one who’s sorry. A voice in my head says, ‘In your dreams he’ll be the sorry one.’
‘Cut it out, Layla,’ he says into the phone and cuts the connection.
‘What are you looking at?’ he asks me.
‘The dust motes,’ I say softly, relief pouring through my veins. All is forgiven. He was talking to his sister. I feel gooey inside.
He turns his head to look at the particles suspended in the rays of sunlight. ‘Why?’
‘Because …’ I pause. Oh my God, I am so happy for no reason whatsoever. ‘The dust motes are magic. They’re around us all the time, but you can only see them in a burst of sunlight.’
‘OK.’
‘Don’t you get it? They’re the universe’s way of telling us that there’s more to life than we can see, hear or touch. You know, like dogs can hear things we can’t, bats can feel sounds, and other animals can see ultraviolet light.’
He stares at me. ‘And you’re a tax collector?’
I shrug.
‘I’m going, but before I go …’ He pulls at the sheet that I’m holding fast to my chest.
I clutch the sheet harder and laugh nervously. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Taking something to remind me of you.’
The sheet slips down my body.
‘Open up,’ he says, looking down at the triangle between my legs.
I spread my thighs and he inserts his finger into me. Unbelievable, but I’m already so wet that it just glides into me. He takes his finger out and sniffs it. ‘That’ll do me,’ he says.
He kisses me on the mouth and then he’s gone.
After the door shuts, I lie unmoving in the quiet of the empty apartment for a few seconds. Then I jump out of bed and run into the bathroom to see what I look like. I freeze with shock to see the state I’m in. Jesus! I’ve honestly never seen myself look more unattractive.
I shower, get back into my clothes and go downstairs. A man in a black jacket gets up from one of the sofas by the plate-glass windows.
