She picked up the folder and slid out the paper, her eyes moving line by line down the text. I shifted in my chair. Not since the service, perhaps, had anyone studied my credentials so intently.
“So this is…” She scanned the document, her index finger hovering in places.
I straightened the cutlery. She remained quiet, squinting at the text.
“Perhaps it would help if I filled in any blanks?”
“No need, Liam. It’s pretty standard stuff. Boarding school, Oxford. I’m amazed this wasn’t laminated.” She dropped the document on the table. “Sounds nice.”
“Ah… yes. Thanks.” Probably not as nice as she imagined, but nobody likes a poor little rich boy.
“You were in the Air Force?”
“I was.”
“Why?”
Why?Nobody asked that. They asked what combat was like, or why I’d dropped out. They didn’t ask why I’d joined in the first place.
“I didn’t want to just… fall into the life that had been mapped out for me. I wanted to do something—” Fuck.Where was I going with this?“I wanted to make a difference.”
“Oh. And did you?”
Jesus. Could we not at least wait for the starters?
“I think so.”
But not the way I’d wanted to.
Certainly not forSamir.
Her eyes stayed on mine, as if she was studying me. The room seemed to close in, the hum of voices tight around my ears. I pressed my palm flat against my thigh, releasedit, pressed again. The restaurant’s murmur seemed sharper, everything clanging, scraping, loud.
Breathe.
She didn’t mean anything. She didn’t know.
I fixed my eyes on the menu card, tracing the typeface. Maybe if I looked at the little dots between the prices and the dishes, I could anchor the air back in my lungs.
Andrea’s voice cut through, lighter than before. “All right, important question. Are we ordering starters, or are you one of those people who pretends he’s not hungry and then steals half of mine?”
She’d placed a hand on my forearm.
I looked up, and she was smiling. “Here.” She took back her hand and tore a bread roll in half. “You look like you need the carbs more than I do.”
“Thanks.” I took it. The room floated back into place.
Did she know what that small action haddone?
“Your Chablis Premier Cru, sir.” The waiter stood there with the bottle.
“Thank you.” He poured a splash into my glass, and I took a sip and set it down.
“Very nice. Thanks.”
He poured for Andrea, then filled my glass, leaving the bottle in the cooler by my elbow.
“Well, your CV’s lovely, Liam. But nothing someone couldn’t find out online. If I were your girlfriend, I’d know a hell of a lot more than this.”
