Page 113 of The Grosvenor's Ghost
I wondered for a couple days if they had slept together. I asked myself if that would bother me and I truly thought it wouldn’t until Zara told me to stop frowning so much because otherwise I’d need Botox and that’s so not in right now—unless of course, your one wish in life is to look like a real housewife of Cheshire.
I’ve been using Digby to keep my mind off it. Kind of just sleeping with him any chance I get because I still can’t find the words for him. He never apologised for Ascot, by the way. That night, I went home (home, home, childhood home) and we didn’t speak for a few days. Like usual, it got swept under the carpet (maybe my fault? Maybe I shouldn’t have let him sweep it under the rug?) and we just went back to normal.
I say we but that’s probably more just Digby specific because every time I am under or on top of him, he isn’t the one I'm looking at. It’s always Arthur. Always.
It’s his lips I’m kissing, his name I’m muttering in my head, his hair I’m grabbing onto, his back I’m clawing at.
Hasn’t been Digby for a long time. Since forever, really.
I also wondered if Arthur was put off because of what I told him in Paris. I stripped myself naked—skin and all—and like I already predicted, he didn’t like what he saw.
That’s fine.
I knew that would be the case.
I mean, why wouldn’t it?
It’s the dates with Astrid I’m finding myself thinking about late at night. For some reason, I’d rather their sex tape get leaked. Dates are intimate. Dates are where you get the little inside jokes and the deepest parts of yourself splayed open. You get to know someone on a date. If you’re sleeping with them, there’s not much space or time to get to know them.
That and well, Arthur never took me on a date.
I think I’m just angry at the idea of Astrid getting him sober when she never loved him when he was high.
Athena comes up to the top deck carrying a tray of fresh fruit.
“You’ll never guess who’s Monaco.”
“Bliss.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You’re meant to guess.”
I grab a bunch of grapes. “I don’t actually have that many friends to guess from, so…”
“Anyway,” she shrugs. “Connie and the boys are coming later tonight.”
Spencer pops her head up behind me. “Connie’s coming?”
Athena grins at me.
“Yeah,” I smile as Spence sits fully upright, sunglasses balancing on the edge of her nose. “Connie’s coming.”
“Why’d you say it like that?” She frowns.
“Like what?”
“Like…” she laughs. “Like there’s something going on.”
I look at Athena, back to Spence, shrug. “Nothing’s going on.”
She flops back down. “Whatever.”
Athena starts laughing, throws a strawberry over my head at her.
“Can anyone else hear that?” I ask, looking up at the sky. “Look—that fucking helicopter has been circling us for hours!”
“Oh, yeah,” Athena nods, stands up, waves at it. “That’s just Reggie and Ivan.”
“Who?”
