I shrug. ‘It’d be nice to go out to dinner soon, though. I mean, I know we do a lot together, but it does tend to be going to see things …’
‘But you like seeing things, don’t you?’
‘Well …’ I pause, wondering how to put it. ‘I do, but to be honest that exhibition was a bit —’
‘You didn’t enjoy it?’
Oh, for heaven’s sake. I must get over this thing I have of saying what I think I think I should say, rather than expressing how I truly feel. I mean, I’m attracted to Michael, of course I am. When my friend Lisa murmured that the good-looking sandy-haired guy at the bar kept checking me out, I glanced over my shoulder expecting to see the woman he was really interested in. Some posh, naturally blonde thing, perhaps. Someone who didn’t get excited by the shoe sale in New Look. But no: it was me, in my Primark dress and cheap, not-especially comfortable suede heels and rather over-enthusiastically highlighted hair. He came over and bought us drinks, and the next time I saw him – alone, of course – he literally charmed the pants off me in his tasteful city centre flat. However, I am conscious of not quite being myself when I’m with him. My laugh is less raucous and occasionally, when he quizzes me about my day at work – about the numerous waxings and pluckings, and the application of eyelash dye – I slightly suspect he’s taking the piss. ‘He treats you like a work in progress,’ my friend Kev joked, last time we spoke. ‘He’s trying to improve you, Sal. Don’t let him. You’re lovely just as you are.’
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
