“Yes, but—” Bo started, before she closed her mouth. “No. Don’t worry. I don’t mean anything.”
“You should come with me,” Willa suddenly announced, and Bo blinked.
“What?”
“To LA. You should come. You’ve talked about visiting me out there for years and never made it. Oh, please come with me. I’ll cover the cost of your plane ticket. First class, all the way.”
“I can’t,” Bo stammered. “My garden—”
“Someone else can water your garden for a few days, Bo.”
“It’s not just that; I have other responsibilities. I can’t just leave.”
“What responsibilities?” Willa asked, her tone indignant. “You have a garden and your summer house. You have a part-time job at a florist. You don’t have an acting job right now. It’s the perfect time to travel.”
“I can’t,” Bo said again, instantly thinking of Max. She’d told him she would be free. They had an arrangement. An arrangement she enjoyed.
“Of course you can, you just need to . . .” Willa stopped. “Oh. Wait. This is about Mr Two out of Ten, right?”
“A little,” Bo admitted. “We have an agreement. I can’t just take off on him like that.”
“It’s just a couple of days. He’ll be fine.”
“No, he needs . . .” Bo paused, suddenly feeling awkward. How could she explain Max and what they had? How could she explain it to Willa, when she could hardly explain it to herself? “Well, after he performs . . .”
“Performs what? Like a front-loading washing machine?” Willa asked, a hint of scathing in her voice.
“Not like that,” Bo retorted. “I mean, after he performs on his piano. It’s really intense for him, and he needs . . . well, he needscompany.” She took a deep breath. “Physical company.”
“You know, most people finish their job and just take a shower and order food.”
“Max is different.” Bo wanted to explain, but knew she’d never be able to. “He’s creative.”
“So, he’ll find somebody else to sleep with,” Willa said, before she paused, a long moment of silence following. “Except that’s not what you want, is it, Bo? You don’t want him to find anyone else. You want him just for you.”
Bo made no reply. She gazed across the garden to the old house, where she knew Max was probably still sleeping.
“Oh, Bo,” Willa exclaimed. “You went and got attached, didn’t you?”
“I like him, Wills.”
“Yeah, I can tell. It was meant to be just a bit of fun though, wasn’t it?”
“It is fun,” Bo argued. “We have a great time when we’re together.”
“Okay,” Willa answered. “So, tell me: what do you do, when you’re together?”
Bo paused. “Well, we . . . umm . . .”
“You have sex. Great. What else do you do?”
Bo thought again, unsure as to whether or not arguing and antagonizing one another counted as ‘doing’ something.
Willa filled in Bo’s obvious silence, however. “You just have sex, don’t you? Christ, Bo, have you even talked to this guy? Like, properly?”
“Yes,” Bo retorted, a little stung.
“Okay. So, tell me why Geoffrey never saw him. Tell me why they fell out.”
