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“I think I should cancel,” I said. “I’m so sorry. Not because of you. Because of, well. You.”
Tess nodded quickly. “Yeah. No. Totally. Sensible.”
“I’ll still pay. Obviously. It’s not your fault.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I insist.” I fetched the envelope and handed it to her, and our fingers touched, and we both jumped like it was electrified.
She lingered on the doormat. “For the record,” she said, “this is my job. It’s legal, I pay tax on it, and it’s paying for my master’s in urban planning. I’m not embarrassed. I’m just…” She waved a hand at me, at the door, at the universe. “This is a lot.”
“It’s a lot,” I agreed. “Does Gemma know? About the job?”
“God, no. Does Gemma know you book escorts?”
“I’ve never booked one before in my life. Tonight was the first time.”
“Of course it was.” She laughed, and then looked at me a bit differently, like she was seeing me for the first time instead of as part of the barbecue furniture. “Well. Night, Ben. See you at the next family thing, I suppose.”
“See you.”
She walked to the lift in her red coat, and I closed the door and slid down it until I was sitting on the floor.
I didn’t sleep. At two in the morning I was still staring at my phone, with her number in it from a group chat about Gemma’s surprise party four years ago.