The Perfect Girlfriend(46)
‘It was good,’ he admits. ‘Mostly.’
It’s not as though he can say anything else. You can’t argue with the truth. And it was me who fucked up. I pressed too hard on the relationship accelerator without realizing the need to ease off every now and then. I really, truly get that now.
‘You were right to take a step back. Thanks for the drink.’ I put down my glass. It is still nearly full but I can’t face any more. ‘I’ll head off and meet the others. Have you guys got plans?’
‘Barry has relatives here, so no, and the other FO is getting up early tomorrow to do a tour of the Grand Canyon.’
‘Join us if you feel like it,’ I say.
‘I was thinking of wandering down to the bar later.’
‘Maybe see you later, then,’ I say, standing up. ‘If not, then I’ll see you at pick-up.’
‘Actually,’ he says, ‘I may as well come down with you now but I need to change quickly. Especially if we’re going on out after. You’re all dressed up.’
I shrug. ‘Not really. It’s hard to know what to wear. It’s so hot outside, yet freezing inside when the air conditioning is ramped up.’
‘Your hair is different,’ he says. ‘It suits you.’
My heart rate quickens. The old Nate is re-emerging now that I seem unattainable. He whips off his T-shirt and pulls a smarter one out of his suitcase. I pretend not to watch but I can see his reflection in the mirror.
We walk side by side along the corridor. I could easily slide my hand into his or put my arm around him, but I look ahead. When the lift arrives, it’s almost full, so we are forced apart as we squeeze in among several Dutch tourists and a family with three young boys. We hold back and step out into the lobby, then across to the bar.
As we enter, I am momentarily stunned by the light and noise. There is no escaping the slot machines. I narrow my eyes and spot Alex with a few of the others, which isn’t always easy, given that even the men can look different out of uniform. I locate an empty seat next to him and order a sparkling water from a waitress.
I turn my attention to Alex. I am aware that Nate is talking to the upper-deck crew member, Joanna. Alex and I are sucked into a general group conversation which centres on the unpopular overhaul of the on-board service routine, which has been created by office workers who have never had the pleasure of serving the general public in a confined area. I pretend to join in by nodding and agreeing on certain points, but I’m trying to eavesdrop on Nate.
‘What about this club, then?’ I say to Alex. ‘I’m bored of talking shop.’
‘Fancy something to eat first? There’s a Vietnamese place which serves fantastic noodles in the same hotel as the club.’
‘Perfect. By the way, there’s a spare ticket going begging. My friend didn’t come in the end, she was late for work and got sent to Hong Kong instead.’
I go to the Ladies whilst Alex sorts out the logistics with the rest of the group. I don’t want to inadvertently let Nate catch any subconscious signals of how desperate I am that he joins us – and hopefully Alex will offer him my ‘spare’ ticket, so that I don’t have to. When I return, the entire group is heading for the lobby and Alex is organizing cabs with the doormen. We pass through the revolving doors and I hang back as four people climb into the first one, leaving me, Alex, Nate and Joanna. A second taxi pulls up.
‘Do you mind if I take the front?’ says Joanna. ‘I get horribly car sick.’
We all agree. Nate walks behind the taxi, opens the rear passenger door behind the driver and gets in. I slide into the middle, Alex is on my left. I am sandwiched between the two of them and I can feel Nate’s thigh against mine.
I can barely breathe.
We pull on to the strip and my senses are hit further by the sheer volume of traffic, neon lights and signs. As we drive past the lit-up Bellagio Fountains, I’m dying to hold Nate’s hand. He might not even object; he is looking out the window and his whole posture and expression is relaxed. Instead, I turn to Alex as our driver overtakes an enormous black pick-up truck, which hoots in retaliation.
‘Seems there is a price to pay for fun,’ I say, pointing at the billboards advertising personal injury lawyers and bail bonds, ignoring the slight sense of unease curling through my thoughts as I picture the pills concealed within a vitamin bottle, courtesy of Michele Bianchi.
‘Yeah, I can imagine.’
We pull up outside another hotel, which looks much the same as ours. The rest of our group have already piled out of their taxi and are waiting at the bottom of the steps. Nate, myself, Alex and Joanna fumble around in our bags for dollar bills, but Alex pays our driver.
‘Get me a drink later,’ he says, batting away offers of cash.
I sit next to Alex when we are shown to our table and ask him for advice on dishes. Nate sits opposite. We order beers whilst everyone listens to the waiter running through the specials. As a group, we select summer rolls to start and I choose tofu coconut curry. I hear Nate opt for a spicy noodle soup. Alex launches into a tale about the last time he was at this club. One of the girls on his crew got so drunk, she went round begging strangers to marry her and had to be taken home by the supervisor, after security threatened to throw the whole group out.
This sets off a lively conversation of similar tales, each one getting worse. No one admits to being the main culprit in any of these stories, the common thread being that they are mostly fuelled by alcohol, jet lag or the need to let their hair down away from the constraints of home.