Page 8 of An American in London

“Why is being optimistic a bad thing? Why is being happy something to complain about?”

He pauses ... and this time I know it’s not because he’s ignoring me; he’s really thinking about it. Eventually he turns and looks me in the eye, and I can feel the intensity of his stare in my hips, my throat, my wrists, my toes.

“It’s about authenticity.” He holds my gaze, and suddenly I’m feeling a little faint. I take a deep breath, and I realize by doing so, my bosom is heaving like I’m in a costume drama and the man next to me is the rake who’s about to steal my virtue—just like Daniel De Luca as the title character inAlexander, Duke of Hearts. “Are youtrulyhappy, Tuesday?” Again, his words are like a physical blow.

I wonder if he’s flipped open the top of my brain and can see every thought of mine as they form.

“Of course I’m happy. I’m inLondon,” I say, almost trying to convince myself.

He shrugs and sips on his wine.

I shiver. Maybe it’s time to give up trying to be friends with this guy.

“You never told me your name,” I say, more quietly this time.

He sighs. “Ben.”

I’m nodding when we’re interrupted by a man who I presume is Ben’s dinner date. A shorter blond guy who gives me Bradley Cooper vibes slaps Ben on his back, then catches sight of me andimmediately offers his hand. “I’m Nick.” He shoots Ben a questioning glance.

“I’m Tuesday,” I say, taking his hand. “I’m a friend of Ben’s.”

I can almosthearBen rolling his eyes.

“I’m delighted to meet you. A friend of Ben’s is a friend of mine.” He squints at me, and I can tell he wants to ask me what kind of friend I am, exactly.

“I’m from New York,” I say. “Just landed two days ago. Ben was the first person I met, and we’ve been firm friends ever since.”

I glance at Ben, and I swear I see the corner of his mouth lift, as if he’s given up trying tonotbe my friend and is going to let me say what I like. Nick frowns like what I’m saying doesn’t quite add up. He’s right, of course.

“Let’s get our table,” Ben says.

“I do hope you’re joining us?” Nick asks, his eyes full of mischief.

“No, she is not,” Ben snaps.

I glance between the two men and something inside me shifts. They want opposite things, and I get to decide. Normally, I’d find the idea of choosing impossible. But today it feels easier. The stakes are lower.

“I’ll leave you two gentlemen in peace.” I glance down at my cocktail. “I have my drink for company.”

Ben’s frown deepens, and I get the feeling he’s just about to say something. But he doesn’t and they head off to the restaurant.

I take another sip of Life’s a Peach and wonder what in my life would change if this drink were a magic potion thatcreatesa peachy life. I scoff quietly. What would change? What wouldn’t, more like.

“Have you eaten?” A voice comes from behind me.

I spin, and it’s Ben asking me the question.

“Eaten what?” I ask.

“Come and have dinner with us,” he says. It’s not so much an invitation. More of an order.

I shake my head. “I couldn’t—”

He growls. Well and truly growls, like a wolf or something, and it stops me in my tracks.

“Did you just—”

He picks up my cocktail and stalks across to the restaurant. I have no choice but to follow him.

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