“Yes,The Lights of Trafalgar. I can’t wait to see it again. Hopefully you won’t mind if I come.”
“Of course not,” Juliette says. “You were there when I thought of it, after all.”
Hearing that, I take a closer look at Isabelle. At her glossy brown hair that’s cut in an elegant bob. At the delicate lines of her cheeks that seem more pronounced as she tries to smile, despite her sister’s amiable but guarded tone. She seems indecipherably familiar until I realize that she’s the woman who appeared so often in Juliette’s scrapbook. In those countless photos, you’d think she and Juliette were the best of friends. Inseparable, even. It makes me wonder what must have happened to bring them to this point of strained civility.
If I had a sister, I would be intensely attached. As it is, it’s just me and my dad, and growing up, I would have done anything to have a sibling. Not that my dad is cold—he’s not. I know he loves me, but reimaging my childhood with a live-in best friend, a confidante, it would have been such a gift. A gift that Juliette and Isabelle seem to have set aside.
“Liam is looking forward to attending the pop-up as well,” Isabelle then says. “For someone so preoccupied with computers, he’s surprisingly drawn to the arts. He would have been here tonight, but he told me you needed another ticket.”
“What was that about his ticket?” I ask, suddenly jumping in and earning surprised glances all around.
Juliette looks at me for a drop longer than normal before speaking up. “Liam heard you talking about Roshni wanting to come tonight, so he gave us his ticket for her to use. That way, both of you could enjoy the show.”
“That was really nice of him,” I say, trying to downplay my initial reaction and turning to focus on Isabelle. “Your son is very thoughtful.”
“He is. Thank you,” she answers with a warm smile. “And what’s your name, dear?”
“Oh, I’m Winnie.”
She reaches out and shakes my hand with a genteel but steady grip. “Do tell me if you need anything while you’re in London, Winnie. Both of you,” she adds, looking at Roshni. “I’m a bit swamped with work at the moment, but I’m always available for friends of my sister. Let me give you my number...”
Before she has a chance to finish her sentence, Juliette places her hand on my arm.
“Actually, we’re all going to be quite busy this trip—so busy, in fact, that we better get going, unfortunately.”
A flash of disappointment crosses Isabelle’s face before she sets it back to a neutral expression. “Alright then. And you’ll let me know about lunch, Juliette?”
“Absolutely. Without question. Winnie, why don’t you just go on ahead and let the driver know that we’re ready?”
“Sure,” I say, starting to walk away but then turning back to Isabelle. “It was very nice meeting you.”
“You as well, dear.”
I offer her a quick smile before I continue walking, stepping outside onto the pavement and calling the driver. With my task done, I look in my text history to where Juliette sent me Liam’s contact info. I can’t stop myself from typing out a quick message and pressing Send.
Hello, kind sir. This is Winnie. I heard you gave your ticket away so Roshni could see the show. That was very gentlemanly of you.
Blinking dots appear seconds later.
I was happy to help. I hope you all had a good time.
We had a great time.
I then add:
Also, I hope it’s okay that I’m texting you. I know Juliette gave me your number in a work capacity, so if you’re busy or this is weird, feel free to not answer.
He soon texts back:
It’s very much okay that you’re texting me. I may or may not have given my ticket away in the hopes that this very text exchange might happen.
I shake my head with a disapproving smile even though I’m enjoying every second of this. I quickly type back:
So friendly conversation is acceptable then?
He answers right away:
Entirely acceptable. Now we just have to establish how friendly. Are we thinking business casual?
