I eye Lydia over my glass. ‘Wow, this is fresh.’
Lydia says nothing, eyes narrowing, staring me down. I’m glad she’s not a Gorgon.
‘Did you prepare this yourself?’
Lydia closes her eyes before answering. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, you did a fantastic job. Cheers to that.’ I hold my glass out, and Lydia recoils. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘Mm.’
She’s typing away and I subtly take a look at her screen. ‘That doesn’t look like work.’
‘It helps me relax.’
Pixelated buildings blow up on her screen as she hammers away at the keys. With a frisson of fear, I think I see hotel guests meeting their demise. ‘Do you… uh, like your job, Lydia?’
‘No.’
‘Right.’
‘Do you like yours?’
‘No.’
‘No,’ Lydia says. ‘Nobody likes their job. We have all trapped ourselves in this system.’
‘Right on.’
She stares at me. ‘Are you going to annoy me all evening?’
‘Oh.’ So maybe this whole friendship thing isn’t going to happen. Fine. Even though it wounds me, I’ll have to accept it. ‘Um, no, I’m just waiting for…’
‘Your ex?’
‘I wish.’ I baulk. ‘Who said that? No, uh…’
‘You know someone else in Greece?’
‘Actually, I do.’ This is good. Even footing. We’ve already established we hate our jobs, and now she knows I have some connection here. We’re on course for victory. ‘Old friend from childhood. Yeah, we go way back.’
She doesn’t need to know we lost touch.
She shrugs. ‘I don’t care for the particulars.’
‘Oh.’
‘I am glad you’re not seeing your ex.’
‘You are?’
‘Don’t get hopeful. I don’t care that much.’
‘Right. But you care enough that I’m not seeing him.’
Her lips purse. ‘I don’t care for the particulars.’
‘That’s a fun expression of yours,’ I muse. But my cocky humour dies when she cocks an eyebrow. ‘Lydia, can I ask you something?’
