“What?”
“The message you got on your phone during the game. You’ve got an open-book face,” he says, opening a bottle of tonic and letting it fizz. “I noticed you looked upset. I don’t mean to be nosy, I just hope it wasn’t anything too bad, whatever it was.”
“It’s okay, you’re not being nosy. I mean, it was bad news. Not for me, for someone else. But if I tell you, you’ll laugh at me.”
He glances up, intrigued. “Try me.”
I exhale. “Fine. I got a notification that an actor I interviewed recently broke up with her boyfriend. She seemed like a really nice person and now she’s going to have to deal with all these reporters prying into her business, trying to get a photo of her crying or something. And she’s having a baby any minute, so you know, she’s got a lot on her plate, and… I don’t know. It made me sad.”
He passes me my drink.
“Go on, then,” I say, taking the cup from him. “You’re thinking I’m too invested in celebrities who I don’t even know. You and Cosmo both think my job is ridiculous.”
He recoils, lines forming on his forehead. “No, I don’t think that.”
“The celebrity world is silly in your lofty opinion, I’m sure.”
“I’m not going to pretend I am as invested in the… uh… celebrity world, as you put it. But I’d never make fun of you for caring about someone who is hurting. It says a lot about what kind of a person you are.”
I’m so taken aback by the compliment, I’m lost for words.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, confused.
“I was expecting you to say something snarky.”
“About you being upset because someone is going through a tough time?”
“Well… yeah.”
He takes a sip of his drink. “So, that’s what you think of me.”
“What you think of my job,” I remind him.
“Not being particularly interested in something isn’t the same as looking down on it. Besides, you haven’t asked my opinion on your job, so how would you know?”
“All right, then. Ryan, what do you think about the celebrity angle of the magazine?”
He smiles into his drink. “Fluffy nonsense.”
“I knew it!”
“I’m joking!” He laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, you want my honest opinion?”
I sigh. “This should be interesting.”
“I think… I think you write insightful, clever features about people who lead extraordinary lives, and even though they might be so famous that everyonethinksthey know everythingabout them, somehow you manage to show them in a light that makes it seem as though we didn’t really know them at all—until we read your piece. You really care, and because of that, your readers care. It’s brilliant and powerful journalism. Oh, and you’re quite funny sometimes, too,” he adds as an afterthought.
Once again, in a matter of minutes, I’m stunned into silence by Ryan Jansson.
“You look confused,” he observes after a while of me standing there staring at him with my mouth open.
“I… what do you mean by ‘quitefunny’?”
He rolls his eyes. “I say all of those things about your writing talents and that’s the comment you pick up on.”
“I’m genuinely shocked you’ve read any of my articles.”
“Have you read any of mine?”
