‘Ha!’ Ava slaps her thigh, delighted. ‘Wrong. Taiye is Aaliyah’s middle name –first born of twins. Mine’s Kehinde.Second born. I win!’
‘Not necessarily,’ Jean says. ‘I haven’t had my turn yet. You only win if you guess correctly, otherwise we’re tied.’
‘Alright. Your turn, Ms Corporate.’
Ava’s eyes never leave Jean’s. And she can’t resist drawing the moment out, revelling in the attention. ‘I hope you’re ready, because I’m not going easy on you. My middle name’s Euphemia. I was blonde for a brief, regrettable period in the Nineties. And I can play all four of Vivaldi’s seasons on piano.’
‘Hmmm.’ Ava frowns. ‘Euphemia’s some Victorian shit – but then truth is stranger than fiction. Or you could be trying to Uno Reverso me after I got you with Taiye. We’ll come back to that one later.’
‘One minute left!’ Jean starts at Bernard’s voice. From that first night, it had felt as if she and Ava were the only two people in the world – and Jean assumed it was because they spent all their time together cocooned in Ava’s flat. But even in a room full of people, Ava is enchanting. It’s impossible to resist their chemistry. The thought is a disquieting one.
‘Better hurry up,’ Jean says, with more bite than she’d intended.
‘Alright, alright.’ Ava’s frown deepens. ‘Piano’s exactly the kind of hobby a girl like you would have, and I can totally see you being into classical. But you were born to be a redhead – I mean, your entire wardrobe’s green. I can’t see you being dumb enough to mess with that.’
‘Final answer?’
‘Final answer.’
Jean’s smile unfurls, the victory sweet. ‘I was blonde from April to October in 1994.’
‘Noooo!’
‘Too stubborn to admit it was a mistake right away – there are no surviving photos.’ A small mercy. ‘But it was worth it to see the look on your face.’
Whatever Ava’s about to say is lost as Bernard pulls the group’s focus back into the room. ‘Great job, everyone – I hope you learned something new about your partner. Next up you’re each going to share one item from your bucket list. One thing you want to do before you die. Five minutes on the clock, starting… now!’
‘I want to make managing partner.’ Jean speaks without hesitation, voice low and urgent, for Ava’s ears only. It’s the truest thing she has to offer, that desire is the engine pulling her forward.
But Ava simply scoffs. ‘Yeah, no shit. That doesn’t count.’
Jean blinks. It hadn’t occurred to her that Ava would want more. What more is there to want? ‘Bernard didn’t say we couldn’t pick career goals.’
‘He didn’t have to – it was implied!’
Those puppy dog eyes don’t work on Jean. ‘Every good lawyer knows the devil’s in the details.’
‘That’s a fucking cop-out and you know it.’
Justice Hawthorne shoots Ava a filthy look – until Jean peers at her with a single eyebrow raised.
Ava watches this silent exchange, amused. ‘I said what I said.’
‘And so did I.’
Ava looks at her for a long moment, a challenge in those eyes. But Jean stares right back until Ava concedes. ‘Fine,’ she says, in a way that suggests it’s anything but. ‘I want to visit Nevis.’
‘In the Caribbean?’ Ava has never mentioned having family out that way. But that doesn’t rule out the possibility.
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘Oh no.’ Ava holds up a hand. ‘Bernard never said we had to answer more questions.’
Jean opens her mouth, but isn’t fool enough to step into the trap Ava has set out in front of her. She won’t beg and she won’t attempt to cross this boundary. Because Ava’s curiosity about Nevis has no bearing on their arrangement. ‘Fine.’
For a long moment they’re silent. Jean tunes into the conversations around them, overhears Ken Samson’s longing to make a perfect soufflé. The earnest young woman opposite him wants to sleep under the stars – perhaps if she’d offered up a similar trite cliché, Ava wouldn’t now be contemplating Jean like she’s a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be solved. Henry looked at her that way too, until he decided Jean had a piece missing and gave up.
