This time, he gets a nice middle finger in addition to my disapproving look.
He laughs, then stands up and looks at me from head to toe. “I see we’ve put on your to-go uniform.”
“Go to hell!” I walk past him and reach the entrance to answer the intercom that has just gone off.
“We’ll be right there!” I say to Rowan, already more excited than is humanly possible.
“Are you a bit nervous?”
“You’re no help at all. You know that, don’t you?”
“And when am I?”
“That’s also true, but I would appreciate it if you made a little effort this time.”
“I can try, but I can’t promise you anything.”
“That’s something.” I cross the landing and knock on Mr Yang’s door.
“And you?” Ross speaks, and I turn to him. “Can you try not to fall in love with our sexy lawyer?”
No need to lie. I have a self-destructive tendency, and this is another example.
“I can try, but I can’t promise anything.”
“I HOPE THIS place is okay,” Rowan says, sitting next to me at the table.
Rowan took us to Bar Italia, a restaurant in the city centre on Ormond Quay. Luckily, we could walk there.
“We were talking about pizza,” Emily reminds him.
“Pizza, pasta, whatever you want.”
“I love Italian food,” Ross comments. “But I’ve never been here.”
I look around, admiring what is clearly an Italian restaurant. Neon signs, language signs, expensive-looking wine bottles on display, and the unmistakable images of a country I have always wanted to visit. Bright, warm colours that scream comfort and home.
“Looks like a really nice place, doesn’t it, guys?” I immediately ask their opinion.
“As long as we eat,” says Mason, practical as ever.
“I’m looking forward to trying something different,” Logan says, looking at the menu.
“I’m here for the pizza,” Emily clarifies her position again.
“Excuse her,” I feel compelled to say to Rowan.
“And for what?” He picks up the napkin that was next to his plate and gently places it on his lap. I immediately imitate his gesture, hoping to… I don’t know what I’m hoping for. To look like a man he might like?
I have to be honest. Since he confided in me he’s bisexual, I can’t think of anything else.
What if he really likes me? What if he is one of those men who can see beyond the surface? What if he is one of those people who is willing to give others a chance?
“Are you OK?”
“Hmm?”
“You looked lost.”
