how he’d been standing with the A&R guy, who’d been ‘creaming his pants’.
‘That was fantastic,’ I enthused. After lavishing him with praise I gestured towards my companion, whom Jake had been watching since we’d entered the room, and said, ‘This is Camelia.’
‘You were pretty good,’ she said in a cool, disinterested voice. Then she turned to me. ‘Thanks for introducing us, Daniel. Can we go now, though, do you think?’
Once again I was speechless as she took my hand and pulled me through the door. I glanced back at the open-mouthed Jake and shrugged an apology. He waved it off, a big smile on his face.
Camelia led me through the back door and out into the street. It was freezing outside, but I didn’t care. Camelia was still carrying her jacket. The cold clearly didn’t bother her. I was about to say something about this when she pulled me into a shop doorway and kissed me.
Her lips were soft. It felt good, but strange, the unfamiliar shape of her lips and the taste of her mouth, a faint trace of cigarettes. I hadn’t kissed anyone apart from Laura in years. I was so busy marvelling at the fact that Camelia was kissing me, and trying to push Laura’s image out of my head, that I was unable to relax and enjoy it.
I broke away. She stared at me, confused, then moved her lips back towards mine.
I turned my face away. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘What’s the matter?’ She looked hurt, pissed off.
‘I can’t. I’ve got a girlfriend.’
She made a little snorting noise.
‘I have to go,’ I said. Passers-by were looking at us, this couple having what looked like a break-up conversation in a doorway.
‘What? Come on.’ She moved towards me but I stepped away.
She looked stunned, as if no man had ever rejected her before. Perhaps they hadn’t. I could sense her searching her head for something to say. It made me think of a robot shuffling through possible responses before finding one, and this image made the chance that I’d give in to her advances vanish completely.
‘Daniel, I like you a lot,’ she said. ‘I thought we had a connection.’
This was awkward. ‘Camelia, you’re gorgeous, but—’
‘You have a girlfriend.’ She took another step towards me. ‘I won’t tell her.’ She leaned in for another kiss but I turned my face away like a shy virgin. Again, she looked shocked.
‘Do you have something against Romanian women?’ she asked, tilting her head. ‘When I told you where I come from you seemed . . . upset.’
There wasn’t enough air in my lungs for me to reply.
‘Oh my God,’ she said, stepping back. ‘You really do have a problem with Romanians? You’re not one of those people who hate immigrants, are you?’
‘God, no!’ I said.
She didn’t appear convinced. ‘Well, you certainly have a problem with some thing,’ she said. ‘Just me, maybe.’
I tried to laugh it off. ‘How could I have a problem with someone who looks like you?’
She softened just a bit. ‘So it’s just Romania in general, then.’ A little playful now. ‘You should visit, maybe. Give us a chance. It’s a beautiful country.’
‘Oh I know. I’ve been.’
‘Oh yes? How long ago?’
Again, I had trouble speaking.
‘What is it? You had a bad experience?’
‘No, I . . .’ I couldn’t form a sentence.
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ she said, looking into my eyes.
‘I . . . No. I don’t.’ I hastily added, ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘Are you sure?’ She laid a hand on my arm and for a moment I was tempted to take her home, to bed, to lose myself in her, to tell her everything. But that moment passed quickly and I shook my head.
‘I’m sure.’
‘Fine.’
Before I could say anything else, she spun round and dashed into the traffic, her jacket flapping in her grip. I yelled out as a car swerved around her, a bus swayed, the driver leaning on his horn. Traffic in both lanes screeched to a halt;
‘That was fantastic,’ I enthused. After lavishing him with praise I gestured towards my companion, whom Jake had been watching since we’d entered the room, and said, ‘This is Camelia.’
‘You were pretty good,’ she said in a cool, disinterested voice. Then she turned to me. ‘Thanks for introducing us, Daniel. Can we go now, though, do you think?’
Once again I was speechless as she took my hand and pulled me through the door. I glanced back at the open-mouthed Jake and shrugged an apology. He waved it off, a big smile on his face.
Camelia led me through the back door and out into the street. It was freezing outside, but I didn’t care. Camelia was still carrying her jacket. The cold clearly didn’t bother her. I was about to say something about this when she pulled me into a shop doorway and kissed me.
Her lips were soft. It felt good, but strange, the unfamiliar shape of her lips and the taste of her mouth, a faint trace of cigarettes. I hadn’t kissed anyone apart from Laura in years. I was so busy marvelling at the fact that Camelia was kissing me, and trying to push Laura’s image out of my head, that I was unable to relax and enjoy it.
I broke away. She stared at me, confused, then moved her lips back towards mine.
I turned my face away. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘What’s the matter?’ She looked hurt, pissed off.
‘I can’t. I’ve got a girlfriend.’
She made a little snorting noise.
‘I have to go,’ I said. Passers-by were looking at us, this couple having what looked like a break-up conversation in a doorway.
‘What? Come on.’ She moved towards me but I stepped away.
She looked stunned, as if no man had ever rejected her before. Perhaps they hadn’t. I could sense her searching her head for something to say. It made me think of a robot shuffling through possible responses before finding one, and this image made the chance that I’d give in to her advances vanish completely.
‘Daniel, I like you a lot,’ she said. ‘I thought we had a connection.’
This was awkward. ‘Camelia, you’re gorgeous, but—’
‘You have a girlfriend.’ She took another step towards me. ‘I won’t tell her.’ She leaned in for another kiss but I turned my face away like a shy virgin. Again, she looked shocked.
‘Do you have something against Romanian women?’ she asked, tilting her head. ‘When I told you where I come from you seemed . . . upset.’
There wasn’t enough air in my lungs for me to reply.
‘Oh my God,’ she said, stepping back. ‘You really do have a problem with Romanians? You’re not one of those people who hate immigrants, are you?’
‘God, no!’ I said.
She didn’t appear convinced. ‘Well, you certainly have a problem with some thing,’ she said. ‘Just me, maybe.’
I tried to laugh it off. ‘How could I have a problem with someone who looks like you?’
She softened just a bit. ‘So it’s just Romania in general, then.’ A little playful now. ‘You should visit, maybe. Give us a chance. It’s a beautiful country.’
‘Oh I know. I’ve been.’
‘Oh yes? How long ago?’
Again, I had trouble speaking.
‘What is it? You had a bad experience?’
‘No, I . . .’ I couldn’t form a sentence.
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’ she said, looking into my eyes.
‘I . . . No. I don’t.’ I hastily added, ‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘Are you sure?’ She laid a hand on my arm and for a moment I was tempted to take her home, to bed, to lose myself in her, to tell her everything. But that moment passed quickly and I shook my head.
‘I’m sure.’
‘Fine.’
Before I could say anything else, she spun round and dashed into the traffic, her jacket flapping in her grip. I yelled out as a car swerved around her, a bus swayed, the driver leaning on his horn. Traffic in both lanes screeched to a halt;
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