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Authors: Lauren Henderson
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sarcastically.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Kate, it’s not as if I lived in the
upper hundreds,”
Laurence retorted. “And I don’t have to pay through the nose for a skanky little East Village dump.”
“Could we cut out the eternal uptown/downtown debate?” Suzanne said a trifle wearily. “I’m sure Sam isn’t that interested.”
“I would be if I knew what it was about.” I finished my margarita. “Shall I get in another round?” I waved at the waitress.
“My God,” Laurence said, temporarily distracted, “I’ve always heard the English drank like fish, and it’s so true.”
I looked round the table. Everyone else was, at most, halfway down their drinks.
“Shit,” I said. “And I was going slowly because of the jet lag.”
“Is it true you guys all drink till you fall over?” Java wanted to know. “I heard it’s a Saturday night thing over there.”
“Not fall over,” I corrected. “Stagger, perhaps. Another margarita, please,” I said to the waitress. “OK, you were saying?”
“Uptown versus downtown,” Suzanne said. “I’ll do this”—she held up her hands to ward off Kate and Laurence, who were both trying to speak. “Being a snotty European, I can see both sides of the question. Uptown has the park, river walks, the museums, bigger apartments, especially the higher you go. But there’s not that much going on and everything shuts pretty early. Downtown is much more hip. But it’s grungier and it costs much more so everyone lives in shoeboxes.”
She looked around the table. “That was pretty fair, right?”
A round of nods answered her.
“Where do you live, Suzanne?”
“Midtown,” she said cheerfully. “You must come around. I have a great place.”
“Talk about spending a fortune, though,” Laurence said. “A thousand bucks a month just for the marble in the lobby.”
“I don’t spend a fortune,” Suzanne said tranquilly. “My flatmate does. He’s a banker,” she explained to me.
“One of Suze’s many rich would-be boyfriends,” Kate said. “He thought giving her somewhere fabulous to live practically rent free would win her heart.”
“And has it?” I asked.
Suzanne gave me a beautiful smile. “It certainly didn’t hurt. But I don’t believe in making decisions in a hurry.” She put one hand up to check that her hair, drawn back into a bun at the nape of her neck, was still in place.
“She’s holding out for the richest Belgian in New York,” Kate said affectionately.
“Does he have to be Belgian?” I wanted to know.
“Tradition matters,” Suzanne said seriously, an effect that was rather undercut by being simultaneously carolled by Laurence and Kate. Clearly it was a familiar saying of hers.
“I should be going,” Kate said, looking at her watch.
“Meeting someone?” Java asked.
“Yeah.”
The way she said this, her voice flattening out as if she didn’t really want to answer, made my ears prick up. Kate had been so ebullient up till now that this change of tone was instantly obvious. Suzanne picked up on it immediately.
“Oh shit,” she said, leaning across the table to look at Kate more closely. “Kate, it’s not Leo?”
Kate shrugged. It wasn’t a confirmation or a denial, it was an evasive, don’t-push-me kind of shrug. But Suzanne rode right over the signal.
“Kate! You said it was over!” she said, unable to help her rising intonation. Whoever Leo was, he had Suzanne more than worried.
“It
is
over,” Kate said. “Relax, OK? Oh, look who’s come in.” She waved at Don, who had just shambled through the door, accompanied by another guy. He raised his hand in greeting and went over to the bar.
“That was a bad attempt to distract me,” Suzanne said sternly. “You never say hi to Don normally.”
“Yes, I do. I’m not that rude. Look, I really have to go.” She chucked a five-dollar bill on the table and stood up. “Get them to tell you about theDon thing,” she said to me, pulling on her
“Oh, for God’s sake, Kate, it’s not as if I lived in the
upper hundreds,”
Laurence retorted. “And I don’t have to pay through the nose for a skanky little East Village dump.”
“Could we cut out the eternal uptown/downtown debate?” Suzanne said a trifle wearily. “I’m sure Sam isn’t that interested.”
“I would be if I knew what it was about.” I finished my margarita. “Shall I get in another round?” I waved at the waitress.
“My God,” Laurence said, temporarily distracted, “I’ve always heard the English drank like fish, and it’s so true.”
I looked round the table. Everyone else was, at most, halfway down their drinks.
“Shit,” I said. “And I was going slowly because of the jet lag.”
“Is it true you guys all drink till you fall over?” Java wanted to know. “I heard it’s a Saturday night thing over there.”
“Not fall over,” I corrected. “Stagger, perhaps. Another margarita, please,” I said to the waitress. “OK, you were saying?”
“Uptown versus downtown,” Suzanne said. “I’ll do this”—she held up her hands to ward off Kate and Laurence, who were both trying to speak. “Being a snotty European, I can see both sides of the question. Uptown has the park, river walks, the museums, bigger apartments, especially the higher you go. But there’s not that much going on and everything shuts pretty early. Downtown is much more hip. But it’s grungier and it costs much more so everyone lives in shoeboxes.”
She looked around the table. “That was pretty fair, right?”
A round of nods answered her.
“Where do you live, Suzanne?”
“Midtown,” she said cheerfully. “You must come around. I have a great place.”
“Talk about spending a fortune, though,” Laurence said. “A thousand bucks a month just for the marble in the lobby.”
“I don’t spend a fortune,” Suzanne said tranquilly. “My flatmate does. He’s a banker,” she explained to me.
“One of Suze’s many rich would-be boyfriends,” Kate said. “He thought giving her somewhere fabulous to live practically rent free would win her heart.”
“And has it?” I asked.
Suzanne gave me a beautiful smile. “It certainly didn’t hurt. But I don’t believe in making decisions in a hurry.” She put one hand up to check that her hair, drawn back into a bun at the nape of her neck, was still in place.
“She’s holding out for the richest Belgian in New York,” Kate said affectionately.
“Does he have to be Belgian?” I wanted to know.
“Tradition matters,” Suzanne said seriously, an effect that was rather undercut by being simultaneously carolled by Laurence and Kate. Clearly it was a familiar saying of hers.
“I should be going,” Kate said, looking at her watch.
“Meeting someone?” Java asked.
“Yeah.”
The way she said this, her voice flattening out as if she didn’t really want to answer, made my ears prick up. Kate had been so ebullient up till now that this change of tone was instantly obvious. Suzanne picked up on it immediately.
“Oh shit,” she said, leaning across the table to look at Kate more closely. “Kate, it’s not Leo?”
Kate shrugged. It wasn’t a confirmation or a denial, it was an evasive, don’t-push-me kind of shrug. But Suzanne rode right over the signal.
“Kate! You said it was over!” she said, unable to help her rising intonation. Whoever Leo was, he had Suzanne more than worried.
“It
is
over,” Kate said. “Relax, OK? Oh, look who’s come in.” She waved at Don, who had just shambled through the door, accompanied by another guy. He raised his hand in greeting and went over to the bar.
“That was a bad attempt to distract me,” Suzanne said sternly. “You never say hi to Don normally.”
“Yes, I do. I’m not that rude. Look, I really have to go.” She chucked a five-dollar bill on the table and stood up. “Get them to tell you about theDon thing,” she said to me, pulling on her
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