He had a point. “I don’t know if I can do it, James. I’m talking for real here. I don’t know if I can genuinely submit. I don’t even know how I’d know.” I sighed. “It’s not the pain, that doesn’t worry me, it’s… I don’t know…”
“I get it,” he said, and I’m sure he did. “You have to work out whether you can give yourself to her, whether you can look into her eyes like she’s everything, whether you can believe she’s everything, whether you can kneel before her and see her for the goddess she is, whether you can feel that genuine humility, that genuine desire to serve her without holding back.”
I sighed. “It’s a pain in the fucking arse.”
“Literally, if she gets her way,” he smiled. “Look, Andy, Faye is a beautiful, exotic, vivacious woman. If you want her enough to actually consider putting yourself on the line for her, then I’m confident you’ll find what you need when the time comes.”
“I’m not sure I could serve anyone without holding back, even a woman like Faye. Especially a woman like Faye, she irritates the living fucking shit out of me.”
“Think about it,” he said. “Make the right call. For both of you.”
No fucking pressure.
I checked my watch and he checked his, and we both drew the same conclusion.
“Same time next week,” he said.
“Indeed.” I shook his hand. “Thanks, James, I really appreciate the insight.”
His handshake was solid, like him. “Any time, my friend.”
I gathered my bag, and checked my phone again. Still no messages, Faye still asleep in bed, no doubt. I waved James off with a smile. “I’ll see you on Saturday, for cake and party games.”
“Maybe,” he smirked. “I’ll be a lot harder to spot in a whole roomful of masks. I might feel emasculated, insignificant.”
“Yeah fucking right,” I laughed, then thought it through. “Why the masks?”
“It’s the theme,” he shrugged. “At least that’s what I fathomed from the email. Truth or Dare, Venetian style.”
“Venetian style?!” My blood ran fucking cold and James stopped in his tracks.
“Is there a problem?”
I forced down the surprise, pasted on a smile. “No, no. I’m sure Faye just forgot to mention it.”
“I guess she did.” His eyes were filled with questions but he didn’t pry. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”
***
“Venetian night? What the fuck are you doing organising a Venetian night? Like there’s anything about that fucking place you’d want to remember.”
Faye was stirring her cereals aimlessly, groggy and lethargic. “Jesus, Andy, it’s too early for this.”
“It’s never too fucking early for a conversation like this, Faye.”
She groaned. “It wasn’t even my idea, ok? My idea was truth or dare night, it was the others that came up with the masks, Raven and Cara and Topaz, even Demelza got in on the act. They were being sweet, it’s a celebration of me being back home, so I don’t feel sad about Italy.”
“And you didn’t think to tell them this may be entirely inappropriate?”
“Would you have, if it were you in my position?” Her eyes were hard. “It shouldn’t be a big deal, I should be fine. I’m a big girl, Andy, I can take a few masks and feathers without hyperventilating.”
“Don’t brush this off as nothing, Faye. It’s not nothing. I read those fucking books, I know what kind of shit went down out there.”
“And I told you I didn’t mind it in the main. I’m not scarred, I’m not some little broken puppet that needs wrapping up in cotton wool. I’m fine.” She dumped her dish in the sink, cereals half untouched. “You need to stop harping on about those books, Andy, it’s driving me mad. I don’t need reminding that you know my seedy life story every five bastard seconds.”
“Me and the rest of the fucking planet. Sorry for fucking caring.”
She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“That’s how it sounded.”
She rubbed her temples, then wrapped herself tighter in my dressing gown. She’d taken a liking to it, and I’d taken a liking to her liking it, not that I’d ever fucking admit it. “Can we start the day over, please? I hate arguing with you before my brain has even booted up properly, it puts me in a bad mood all day.”
“This isn’t an argument.”
“Then sniping, knocking heads, whatever you want to call it. Can we put it to bed, please?” She put her hand on her hip, and gave me nothing short of a pout. “Please, Andy. Please don’t be a dick this morning, I haven’t had nearly enough coffee to cope with you.”