Read Online Rachel Does Rome by Nicola Doherty - Free Book Online

for an Aperol spritz because I prefer it to Campari
     – and then we wander away from the others, towards a secluded garden seat beside one
     of the hot tubs.
    Hmm. He doesn’t think we’re going skinny-dipping, does he? I should probably tell
     him that I have a boyfriend. But he’s not coming on to me. We’re just talking, which
     we needed to do ages ago, for closure. Except Jay’s not talking about what happened
     between us: he’s talking about Albania, which seems to be his next holiday.
    ‘Albania?’ I ask, momentarily distracted.
    He nods. ‘Totally unspoilt, dirt cheap.’
    I nod, but there’s something about the way that he says ‘dirt cheap’ that gives me
     the icks. And something else occurs to me. Here we are in Rome, but Jay’s already
     talking about Lombok and Albania. And when he goes to those places, he’ll be talking
     about Ibiza and Miami. And so on, and on. It’s kind of gross, isn’t it? I’ve also
     noticed that at some point, while he was at the bar, he decided to unbutton his shirt
     halfway down. So that I can see his man-cleavage. How alluring – not.
    Now he’s back on work gossip, talking about a couple we both know who’ve split up
     after buying an expensive house together. He’s pretending to look sad but actually
     looking ghoulishly happy at having that news to share.
    God. Was he always like this? Was I so infatuated I didn’t notice? I remember thinking
     he was a bit of a gossip, but I thought it was . . . sweet. Sweet? Sure, in the way
     that a poisonous spider is sweet. Or a rat. And he doesn’t look anything like Ryan
     Gosling; he just has a long nose.
    ‘So. You said there were some things you wanted to say to me?’
    He smiles, that slow smile that used to make my heart weak. ‘Yes, of course. I wanted
     to say that, well . . . it’s good to see you, Rachel. I miss you.’
    ‘Right. I thought you might have some kind of explanation about what happened. You
     know, with that other girl.’
    ‘Oh, that. Well, it was difficult for me too.’
    I nod, before I can actually process what he’s saying. Him cheating on me was difficult
     for him too? What?
    ‘I was having a nightmare at work . . . I was confused, and I did the wrong thing.
     But now, maybe . . .’ He gives me the slow smile again, charmingly uncertain. ‘Maybe
     it could work?’
    It’s the scenario I fantasised about so many times: Jay wanting me back. But now
     that it’s happening, I feel nothing, because Jay is a twat. I once thought I wasn’t
     cool enough for him, and maybe that was why he cheated. But now I realise there is
nothing
wrong with me. And Oliver is one hundred, no, one billion times the man he is. I
     would rather be in the grottiest old-man-pub with Oliver, than in the world’s best
     nightclub with this . . . fuckmuppet. And I never swear!
    ‘Either way, Rachel,’ Jay says, ‘I don’t want to lose you as a friend.’
    Urrrrrggggh. The F-word!
This
was how he got away with it. He could do anything he liked because we were so much
     more than a boring old boyfriend and girlfriend; we were friends. It sounded so sophisticated
     and mature but it was just bullshit.
    Lily and Maggie have left the dance floor, trailed by both the guys, and are standing
     nearby, at the bar. They’re watching me and looking concerned. I’m so glad they’re
     here to see this.
    I smile sweetly at Jay. ‘
Of course
we can be friends. And maybe more? Nothing too complicated? No strings?’
    He’s practically drooling now. ‘Yes. Definitely! You know, Rachel, you always were
     a goer.’
    A
goer
. A goer! With that one word, his fate is sealed. I keep my smile in place as I say,
     ‘By the way, I love your jacket. Where did you get it from?’
    He shrugs. ‘Armani, I think. Or no, sorry. Hugo Boss. The jeans are Armani.’
    ‘It’s gorgeous.’ I stroke his shoulder. ‘Do you want to play a game?’
    His eyes light up;
of course
he wants to play a game. Because he is