“You’ll be his best mate for life if you do.”
Reaching into his jacket pocket, he produces a green apple. Like a puppy who has wide eyes for a tennis ball, Sefton’s eyes immediately go to the sweet treat. Art holds his palm flat at hip level. Not wasting any time, my greedy horse gobbles up the apple in two bites.
When he starts sniffing around for more, Art holds up his hands. “That’s it for now.”
Sefton blows out air, then nuzzles his head against Art’s chest. My heart warms. It’s one of the most precious things I’ve ever seen. My two favorite boys.
Wait. I freeze. No. Art’s not a boy. I mean, he is... but he’s more of a man than a boy. And he isn’tmine. He’s the security officer who’s here to protect me. Nothing more.
“I need to get over to Athena. Otherwise, she might think I’ve abandoned her. She’s just as processive of me as Sefton. I’ll, er, see you in a few.”
Not waiting for an answer after making my excuses, I flee the stall for the safety of Athena’s. I remind myself that I’m on a date with Eric! My thoughts need to center on him. Not on Art. I agreed to this date. I need to see it through and be fair to him. Clearing my mind, I busy myself with locating Athena’s curry comb, and begin brushing her in soothing, rhythmic strokes.
We mountup and take a long scenic loop through Hyde Park. Our plan is to eventually end up riding on Rotten Row, one of the most exclusive riding tracks in London.
It’s a beautiful afternoon. The sun is out and warming our backs with its radiant rays. It’s probably about twenty-five degrees Celsius, and luckily, there’s little humidity. Eric is directly across from me, while Art is trailing us.
I’ve let Eric do most of the chatting so far, and try to push myself to contribute to the conversation every so often. In all honesty, I’m starting to find that he is a littletootalkative. When I ride, I enjoy soaking in my surroundings and listening to the sounds of nature. Not idle chatter.
“... I was hesitant to go seeMrs. Doubtfireon the West End, but actually, the cast did a stand-up job and measured up to the film. At least in my opinion. Is that a show you’ve seen?”
“No,I haven’t.”
“Oh, well if you do, the bloke in the lead role was fantastic. He was believable as...”
I enjoy seeing an occasional show on the West End, but it’s not something I can usually do on a whim. Being in a very public space means I have to have a full security team. All my movements require advance planning, and like a dance, have to be carefully choreographed.
“... we could go and see it on a future date if you’re game for it,” Eric suggests.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I try for a non-committal tone. “The security office usually needs at least two weeks’ notice though.”
“Blimey, that long?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We’d probably have to buy out a few rows of seats.”
“Hmm, that’s a lot. What about if we went to a dance club? There’s this place down in SoHo that has themed nights similar to theI Love Lucydinner at Charlie’s.”
“If it’s a place my brother or another member of my family has been to before, that’s definitely an option. Otherwise, it’s just like the theatre. The security office would need some time to scope it out and approve it.”
“Blast, it’s not Eddie’s cup of tea. I doubt he’s ever been there. I guess that’s a sign we should stick to outdoor activities. We could take a trek to Wales or up to Scotland and go rock climbing! I learned how last year. We could get up early and do an easy four- or five-hour hike to...”
I bite my tongue and don’t mention I’m scared of heights and that I’m not overly fond of long hikes. Short ones, yes. But five hours long? That’s a hard pass from me. If I didn’t get the sense before that Eric enjoys high-energy activities and keeping busy, I do now. That’s one major difference between us. I’m happy to give those things a go, but they’re not overly enjoyable for me.
Come to think of it, all the things he’s suggested so far have been activities he enjoys. He hasn’t even asked me once if I had any ideas for future dates. A part of that is my fault. I haven’t been offering any suggestions.
“...and that reminds me, there’s also this wine bar in Shoreditch. We could take a tour of the cellar and spend the evening samplingdifferent flights of reds and whites. My mate did that with his girl after they went to tour this vineyard in?—”
I interrupt him. “Actually, I’m not much of a big wine drinker. But if we were to go out and sample something like chocolates, that could be fun. My cousin has an acquaintance who just opened a small confectionery shop in Marylebone that I’ve been eager to visit. I can show you the website if you’d like.”
“Sorry, but that’s a big no from me. I don’t eat sweets. I have a pretty long list of food intolerances I have to be mindful of.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I stare down ahead at the trail.
“It’s fine, you didn’t know.” He waves me off.
“I’m surprised you didn’t mention it at lunch.”
“The chefs at Charlie’s know me and what I can and can’t have. It slipped my mind until now.” Eric shrugs.
