Twenties Girl (Page 53)

“Yes!” I hiss indignantly. “Of course there was! Go on!”

Sadie opens her mouth as though to speak-then shrugs and heads back across the restaurant. I push my earpiece in more firmly and dart a glance over at Josh. He’s sipping his wine and skewering olives with a metal pick while Marie talks.

“… three years is a long time.” I hear her lilting voice over the buzz and crackle. “And, yes, it was hard to finish, but he wasn’t right, and I’ve never regretted it or looked back. I guess what I’m trying to say is… relationships end, but you have to move forward.” She gulps her wine. “You know what I mean?”

Josh is nodding automatically, but I can tell he isn’t hearing a word. He has a bemused look on his face and keeps trying to edge his head away from Sadie, who’s yelling, “What did you love about Lara? Say it! Say it!”

“I loved the way she had so much energy,” he says in a desperate rush. “And she was quirky. She always had some cute necklace on, or a pencil stuffed into her hair or something… And she really appreciated stuff. You know, some girls, you do things for them and they just take it as their due, but she never did. She’s really sweet. Refreshing.”

“Are we talking about your ex-girlfriend again, by any chance?” There’s a steely edge to Marie’s voice, which makes even me wince. Josh seems to come to.

“Shit! Marie. I don’t know what’s got into me. I don’t know why I’m even thinking about her.” He rubs his brow, looking so freaked out I almost feel sorry for him.

“If you ask me, you’re still obsessed,” Marie says tightly.

“What?” Josh gives a shocked burst of laughter. “I’m not obsessed! I’m not even interested in her anymore!”

“So why are you telling me how great she was?” I watch, agog, as Marie throws down her napkin, pushes back her chair, and stands up. “Call me when you’re over her.”

“I am over her!” Josh exclaims angrily. “Jesus Christ! This is fucking ridiculous. I hadn’t thought about her until today.” He pushes back his chair, trying to get Marie’s full attention. “Listen to me, Marie. Lara and I had a relationship. It was fine, but it wasn’t great. And then it finished. End of.”

Marie is shaking her head.

“Which is why you bring her up in conversation every five minutes.”

“I don’t ! ” Josh almost yells in frustration, and a few people at nearby tables look up. “Not normally! I haven’t talked about her or thought about her for weeks! I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with me today!”

“You need to sort yourself out,” Marie says, not unkindly. She picks up her bag. “See you, Josh.”

As she moves swiftly between the tables and out of the restaurant, Josh sinks back into his seat, looking shell-shocked. He looks even more gorgeous when he’s hassled than when he’s happy. Somehow I suppress an urge to run over and fling my arms around him and tell him he never wanted to be with such an uptight, toothpaste-ad girl, anyway.

“Are you satisfied now?” Sadie returns to my side. “You’ve ruined the path of true love. I thought that was against your creed.”

“That wasn’t true love.” I scowl at her.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know. Shut up.”

We both watch in silence as Josh pays his bill, reaches for his jacket, and gets up to leave. His jaw is tight and his easy saunter has gone, and I feel a flash of guilt. But I force myself to quell it. I know I’m doing the right thing. Not just for me but for Josh. I can make it work between us, I know I can.

“Eat your lunch! Hurry up!” Sadie interrupts my reverie. “We need to go home now. You need to start getting ready.”

“For what?” I look at her, confused.

“For our date!”

Oh God. That.

“It’s nearly six hours away,” I point out. “And we’re only going for a drink. There’s no rush.”

“I used to take all day getting ready for parties.” She shoots me an accusing look. “This is my date. You’re representing me. You need to look divine.”

“I’ll look as divine as I can, OK?” I take a spoonful of soup.

“But you haven’t even chosen a frock!” Sadie is hopping with impatience. “It’s already two o’clock! We need to go home now. Now!”

For God’s sake.

“Fine. Whatever.” I push away my soup-it’s gone cold, anyway. “Let’s go.”