I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Forty-Eight

The next evening Alex drove me to the station for my trip up to London. I hated the idea that I would have to stay over night without her, even if it was in a super posh hotel. We hugged and I said, 'Be sure Clem is comfy on your bed tonight.'

'I will and ring in the morning before you leave for the studio.'

'You won't be up yet.'

'Of course I will.' To my anxious expression she said, 'You've done well on radio, it's just like radio with pictures. And in twenty-four hours you'll be home again. Look at it that way.' I blew a small raspberry and she laughed, 'That's the proper attitude.' We kissed on the cheek and I got on the train.

Once I was settled in my hotel room I rang Simon, as agreed. I truly didn't want to see him or anyone else, for that matter. I would've been perfectly happy having dinner on my own from room service and reading my PD James novel, but no, one must be sociable whether one wanted to or not. Simon collected me and we motored off to the restaurant.

Over crab bisque he asked after the new book and I gave him a brief rundown of the plot and the ending. He nodded, 'Clever, clever. But do you think you want to venture outside of the short story format so soon? That's what you're known for, you know.'

I laughed, 'I'm not known for anything. Besides having a freakishly large brain. And I didn't choose for this to be a novel, it just rather worked out that way.'

'I understand that, you must go with the muse and all that, but people like for you to stay within your genre.'

'Yeah, yeah, the characters are still warped.'

He smiled and dabbed his mouth, 'And how have you been getting on?'

I shrugged, unsure of what he was asking precisely, 'Oh, all right, still unpacking and arranging things in the house.' There remained boxes and boxes of books, some from the bookshop we'd bought from and some from the house in Kidlington, along with boxes of random things, it seemed they were multiplying of their own accord.

'Are you dating anyone?'

I snorted, 'What? No!' Why in the world would he care?

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, 'All right, only curious, want to see you happy, you know.'

'I am happy. Very, actually. Why would you think I'd need to be seeing someone in order to be happy?'

'Oh, I didn't mean that at all.' He busied himself with his wine and I narrowed my eyes at him. After a moment he added, 'I simply...have a friend I think you'd get on with.'

'Ah.' I nodded, he didn't care if I was happy, he was pimping for me...or his friend. 'Well, I'm fine right now, thanks.'

'No pressure of course, but I believe you'd like to meet him.'

Where we still talking about this? I cocked an eyebrow, 'Would I?'

He nodded, 'Yes, he's quite...influential.'

'Is this some sort of career move thing?'

He shrugged, 'It wouldn't hurt to meet the guy.'

I put down my fork, 'I don't date for recreational purposes and I'm certainly not about to date because it could further my career.'

'No, no, nothing like that, but the press would like to see the two of you together.'

I snorted in amusement, 'You seem to think I have "press" or that people are interested in me or something, please explain where you've got this ludicrous idea from.'