I’m having trouble with my landlord about my subletting, so I'll
probably end up homeless as well soon if I don't do something fast.”
“Right, well, I’ll keep my eye
out, and we’ll see how things are going on Saturday,” Zaira said, and she
avoided his gaze. She ushered Brad
out and locked up after herself.
Once Zaira was certain he was gone,
she whisked off her itchy wig, and ran her fingers through her hair in
relief. She had just enough time
to pop up to her office to change into her suit before her next lecture, and so
she ran up to her office overlooking the park, and trotted down the corridor to
the ladies’ room.
Fortunately, it was time for
lunch, so no one saw Zaira’s quick change. She scrubbed her face clean, redid her hair, and changed her
clothes. At the last minute she
remembered to take out her lenses and put on her spectacles. She thought amusedly of Superman making
all his quick changes, and wondered what Brad would say if he ever found out
what she was up to. But if she
could keep if up a bit longer, she’d have a huge bank balance, freedom and
security.
Zaira walked back down to her
office, and was arrested by the sight of a tall dark man in her office. Adjusting her eyes to the half-light,
she saw Brad leaning on her desk writing something.
“Oh, hello,” he said with an easy
smile. “I was just in the
neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by and see how you were getting on, and if
you’d like to come to lunch with me.”
Zaira thought bitterly that he was
obviously at a loose end if he was coming up here to invite her out, since he
had been turned down by the attractive Zoe. But she tried to sound regretful as
she informed him she was just on her way to teach.
“How about dinner later then? I’m sick of eating by myself in
restaurants. In fact, I'm sick of
restaurants. That was one thing
about my mother. She might have
been the wife of a movie mogul, but she insisted on cooking everything
herself,” Brad said, with a fond smile on his face.
Against her better judgment, Zaira
heard herself invite him over to dinner, and he accepted the offer
enthusiastically.
“Great, what time?” Brad
asked.
Zaira told him seven thirty and
gave him the address as they went down the stairs together. As soon as she waved him out of sight,
she began to panic over what she could possibly make, and ran through possible
menus in her mind all the way home after the lecture.
In the end Zaira opted for
Italian, and so she got two different kinds of Italian sausage, some fresh
tomatoes and peppers, and some Italian bread heavily encrusted with sesame
seeds. A couple of bottles of red
wine and some salad things, and Italian ice cream for dessert rounded off her
shopping. As a rather daring after
thought, she bought a bottle of gin and a couple of bottles of tonic, and
hurried home to get ready.
As soon as she got in the door she
started the sauce, and rushed to make herself look casual but presentable. She pulled on a pair of well-worn but
stylish jeans and a black smock top, and did her hair in a long plait down her
back. The sauce bubbled cheerfully
as she tore around the apartment trying to tidy everything away. She tried to
remember the last time she had cooked, the last time she had shared a meal with
anyone in her own home. Apart from
staff functions, and the occasional business dinner with Matt, she had not been
out with anyone for any social occasion since Jonathan had left. Except for Raymond and Anna coming to
see how she had settled in, she had never had any visitors there either.
She turned on the CD player, a
present from Matt last Christmas, and soon the apartment was filled with the
strains of Vivaldi as she finished tidying. The apartment was huge, too big for Zaira, but Raymond had
made sure she got first priority on the housing list, and so she had moved into
the three bedroom, two bathroom apartment just
probably end up homeless as well soon if I don't do something fast.”
“Right, well, I’ll keep my eye
out, and we’ll see how things are going on Saturday,” Zaira said, and she
avoided his gaze. She ushered Brad
out and locked up after herself.
Once Zaira was certain he was gone,
she whisked off her itchy wig, and ran her fingers through her hair in
relief. She had just enough time
to pop up to her office to change into her suit before her next lecture, and so
she ran up to her office overlooking the park, and trotted down the corridor to
the ladies’ room.
Fortunately, it was time for
lunch, so no one saw Zaira’s quick change. She scrubbed her face clean, redid her hair, and changed her
clothes. At the last minute she
remembered to take out her lenses and put on her spectacles. She thought amusedly of Superman making
all his quick changes, and wondered what Brad would say if he ever found out
what she was up to. But if she
could keep if up a bit longer, she’d have a huge bank balance, freedom and
security.
Zaira walked back down to her
office, and was arrested by the sight of a tall dark man in her office. Adjusting her eyes to the half-light,
she saw Brad leaning on her desk writing something.
“Oh, hello,” he said with an easy
smile. “I was just in the
neighborhood, so I thought I’d drop by and see how you were getting on, and if
you’d like to come to lunch with me.”
Zaira thought bitterly that he was
obviously at a loose end if he was coming up here to invite her out, since he
had been turned down by the attractive Zoe. But she tried to sound regretful as
she informed him she was just on her way to teach.
“How about dinner later then? I’m sick of eating by myself in
restaurants. In fact, I'm sick of
restaurants. That was one thing
about my mother. She might have
been the wife of a movie mogul, but she insisted on cooking everything
herself,” Brad said, with a fond smile on his face.
Against her better judgment, Zaira
heard herself invite him over to dinner, and he accepted the offer
enthusiastically.
“Great, what time?” Brad
asked.
Zaira told him seven thirty and
gave him the address as they went down the stairs together. As soon as she waved him out of sight,
she began to panic over what she could possibly make, and ran through possible
menus in her mind all the way home after the lecture.
In the end Zaira opted for
Italian, and so she got two different kinds of Italian sausage, some fresh
tomatoes and peppers, and some Italian bread heavily encrusted with sesame
seeds. A couple of bottles of red
wine and some salad things, and Italian ice cream for dessert rounded off her
shopping. As a rather daring after
thought, she bought a bottle of gin and a couple of bottles of tonic, and
hurried home to get ready.
As soon as she got in the door she
started the sauce, and rushed to make herself look casual but presentable. She pulled on a pair of well-worn but
stylish jeans and a black smock top, and did her hair in a long plait down her
back. The sauce bubbled cheerfully
as she tore around the apartment trying to tidy everything away. She tried to
remember the last time she had cooked, the last time she had shared a meal with
anyone in her own home. Apart from
staff functions, and the occasional business dinner with Matt, she had not been
out with anyone for any social occasion since Jonathan had left. Except for Raymond and Anna coming to
see how she had settled in, she had never had any visitors there either.
She turned on the CD player, a
present from Matt last Christmas, and soon the apartment was filled with the
strains of Vivaldi as she finished tidying. The apartment was huge, too big for Zaira, but Raymond had
made sure she got first priority on the housing list, and so she had moved into
the three bedroom, two bathroom apartment just
Similar Books
