“Well, then. Have a gin and tonic.” How can he respond like that? Isn't he human? “I don't want a gin and tonic, okay?” I feel like I'm spiraling out of control. “I don't want a bloody gin and tonic!” “A glass of wine, then?” “Eric, don't you understand?” I almost shout. “Don't you get how terrible this is?” All my rage toward Simon Johnson and the directors is 302 swiveling direction like a twister, channeling toward Eric, with his calm roof terrace and his Waterford glass and his complacent life. “Lexi” “These people need their jobs! They're not all... ultrahigh rich bloody billionaires!” I gesture around at our glossy balcony. “They have mortgages. Rent to find. Weddings to pay for.” “You're overreacting,” Eric says shortly, and turns a page of his paper. “Well, you're underreacting! And I don't understand. I just don't understand you.” I'm appealing to him directly. Wanting him to look up, to explain his view, to talk about it. But he doesn't. It's like he didn't even hear me. My whole body is pulsating with frustration. I feel like throwing his gin and tonic off the balcony. “Fine,” I say at last. “Let's not talk about it. Let's just pretend everything's okay and we agree, even though we don't.” I wheel around and draw a sharp breath. Jon is standing at the doors to the terrace. He's wearing black jeans and a white T-?shirt and shades, so I can't see his expression. “Hi.” He steps down onto the terrace. “Gianna let me in. I'm not... intruding?” “No!” I turn away swiftly so he can't see my face. “Of course not. It's fine. Everything's fine.” Of all the people to show up. Just to make my day complete. Well, I'm not even going to look at him. I'm not going to acknowledge him. “Lexi's a little upset,” Eric says to Jon in a man-?to-?man undertone. “A few people at her work are losing their jobs.” “Not just a few people!” I can't help expostulating. “A whole department! And I didn't do anything to save them. I'm supposed to be their boss and I fucked up.“ A tear creeps down my cheek and I roughly wipe it away. ”Jon.“ Eric isn't even listening to me. ”Let me get you a drink. I've got the Bayswater plans right here. There's a lot to talk about “ He gets up and steps into the sitting room. ”Gianna! Gianna, are you there?“ ”Lexi.“ Jon comes across the terrace to where I'm standing, his voice low and urgent. He's trying it on again. I don't believe this. ”Leave me aloneX“ I round on him. ”Didn't you get the message before? I'm not interested! You're just a . . . a womanizing bullshitter. And even if I were interested, it's not a good time, okay? My whole department has just crumbled to nothing. So unless you have the answer to that, piss off.“ There's silence. I'm expecting Jon to come back with some cheesy chat-?up line, but instead he takes off his shades and rubs his head as though perplexed. ”I don't understand. What happened to the plan?“ ”Plan?“ I say aggressively. ”What plan?“ ”Your big carpet deal.“ ”What carpet deal?“ Jon's eyes snap open in shock. For a few moments he just stares at me as though I have to be joking. ”You're not serious. You don't know about it?“ ”Know about what?“ I exclaim, at the end of my tether. ”I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about!“ ”Jesus Christ.“ Jon exhales. ”Okay, Lexi. Listen to me. You had this massive carpet deal all lined up in secret. You said it was going to change everything, it was going to bring in big bucks, it was going to transform the department So! You enjoy the view, huh.” He seamlessly switches track as Eric appears at the door, holding a gin and tonic. 304 Massive carpet deal? My heart is beating fast as I stand there, watching Eric give Jon his drink and pull out a chair under the huge sunshade. Ignore him, says a voice in my head. He's making it up. He's playing youthis is all part of the game. But what if it's not?
“Eric, darling, I'm sorry about earlier.” My words come out almost too fluently. “It's just been a difficult day. Could you possibly get me a glass of wine?” I'm not even looking at Jon. “No problem, sweetheart.” Eric disappears inside again and I wheel around. “Tell me what you're talking about,” I say in low tones. “Quickly. And this better not be a windup.” As I meet his gaze I feel the sting of humiliation. I have no idea if I can trust anything he says or not. But I have to hear more. Because if there's just a one percent chance that what he's saying is true... “This isn't a windup. If I'd realized before that you didn't know...” Jon shakes his head incredulously. “You'd been working on this thing for weeks. You had a big blue file that you used to carry around. You were so excited about it you couldn't sleep” “But what was it?” “I don't know the exact details. You were too superstitious to tell me. You had this theory I was a jinx.” His mouth twists briefly as though he's sharing a private joke. “But I know it was using retro carpet designs from some old pattern book. And I know it was going to be huge.” “But why don't I know about it? Why doesn't anyone know about it?” “You were keeping it quiet until the last moment. You said you didn't trust everyone at the office and it was safer not to.“ He lifts his voice. ”Hey, Eric. How's it going?“ I feel like I've been slapped in the face. He can't stop there. ”Here you are, Lexi,“ Eric says cheerfully, handing me a glass of wine. Then he heads to the table, sits down, and gestures at Jon to sit. ”So the latest is, I spoke to the planning officer again...” I'm standing perfectly still as they talk, my mind racing torn apart with uncertainty. It could all be bullshit. Maybe I'm a gullible fool, listening to even a word. But how would he know about the old pattern book? What if it's true? My chest constricts with a deep, painful spasm of hope. If there's still a chance, even a tiny chance...