Page 95 of Unapologetic Love Story

‘Has he definitely stopped writing that piece about you?’

Raina froze at Pepper’s question. It was the following day, and while Tom was taking meetings in town, she and Pepper were in Raina’s garden, planning the Gatsby party.

There had been such a shift in energy between her and Tom since they went to bed. He was more open, more ready to laugh. However, his intense examination of her hadn’t disappeared. He seemed to always be taking notes with his eyes. The hopelessly romantic side of her wanted to believe that this was just infatuation.

The side of her that had been slapped about the face by reality too many times knew better.

‘His little Dictaphone thing hasn’t come out once since we started sleeping together,’ she told Pepper, settling on something which was completely truthful.

‘Uh huh,’ her friend said, not accepting this answer for a moment. ‘Thinking with his dick instead of his Dictaphone. Fine. But the minute he gets back to his place, he starts scribbling down everything he can on you?’

Raina flinched at her words. It was the tiny, frightening thought that slipped into her head right before she fell asleep in his arms each night.

She tried to make herself sound relaxed. ‘Which he’s free to do. That’s what writers—’

‘And if he publishes?’

‘Pepper.’ A dash of irritation entered Raina’s voice. ‘Please. You’re determined to see the worst in him.’

‘And you’re incapable of it.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘It is, Raina. You know it. I know it. You’re so literal – all someone has to do is tell you they’re a good person, and you believe them. You don’t consider for a moment that they might be lying because they want something from you.’

‘Pep—’

‘Here’s how I know though, Rai,’ Pepper said tensely. ‘I know because I’m not a good person.’

‘Pepper,’ Raina said, her voice almost inaudible.

‘I’m a fucking brat. I’ve been given everything. Everything. And all I can do with it is throw parties, do sponsored Instagram posts and fall out of nightclubs. Do you know how disappointed my grandparents would be, if they saw me?’

‘Don’t say that.’

‘They would! What was all of it for? Look at me!’

Pepper shoved the heavy folder away from herself and pulled off one of her many rings. She stared around the garden and exhaled heavily.

‘Pep, you’re not a bad person,’ Raina said matter-of-factly. ‘You’re a pain. You feel sorry for yourself way too often. And you could probably do with cracking open a few theory books. But you’re not a bad person.’

‘I’m a stupid little rich girl.’

‘Yes,’ Raina said warmly, reaching across to squeeze her friend’s wrist. ‘And when the mob finally comes to eat the rich, I’ll be right at the front with my pitchfork, saying, “Not this one, she won’t taste any good.”’

There was a beat and then Pepper smiled reluctantly. ‘Thank you, comrade.’

Raina beamed and sat back on her heels. ‘You sound like him, you know.’

‘Who?’

‘Tom,’ Raina said, and Pepper made a retching sound. ‘No, you do. You both see everything so black and white. Good and evil. Rich and poor. Everything is so binary with both of you. You know, when I was being diagnosed, the assessor asked if I would rather go to a party or to a library.’

‘Party, please,’ scoffed Pepper.

‘See, I can’t answer questions like that,’ Raina laughed. ‘What if it’s a great party in a library? What if the library has a fire alarm constantly triggering? What if—’

‘You’re an overthinker.’