Page 47 of Choose Us

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t waiting around desperately for your reply,” I jested. I definitely was. “How was work?”

“Good. Busy. The usual. Why don’t you tell me about your day? What parts of Japan have you explored today?”

I got the feeling she didn’t want to talk about work. That didn’t bother me; maybe she’d had a stressful day. I reeled off the places me and Beth had been and my favourite parts. She asked questions about each of them; some she’d seen herself, others not, but she showed a real interest. Iloved that.

“That all sounds amazing.” I sensed something was off. Her tone was strained. She didn’tseem upbeat.

“Is everything okay with you?” I asked.

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

I paced back and forth; standing still was almost impossible when I was on the phone. “I don’t know, you just sound a little down.”

“I’m fine, Holly. It’s just been a crazy day. I promise I won’t be miserable tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, what are we doing?” Subject changed. She was getting rather good at that.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. I like the idea of a foodie day. I’d love to experiment with more Japanese cuisine.” My stomach rumbled as soon as I mentioned food; having filled up on sweet stuff all day I was yet to have aproper meal.

“Okay, we can do that. I can have a think tonight. I’ll text a couple of my friends from work and pull a little itinerary together for us.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“What time shall we meet?”

“Beth mentioned a market in the city where they do this amazing omelette for breakfast. Apparently getting there early isessential.”

“Tsukiji Market?” Brooke asked.

“That sounds like it, yes.”

“I know exactly what omelette she means. I agree. You haveto try it.”

“How do you want to meet?”

“I think it’ll be easier if we get the train. Do you want to meet me at the station? There’s one right by the market. It’s in Chuo. I can send over which train you need to catch once we get offthe phone.”

“Okay.”

“Does 8 a.m. work for you?” Brooke asked.

The early start didn’t concern me; the more time I got to spend with herthe better.

“Sounds perfect.”

The phone call didn’t end there. I lay on my bed like a teenager, twiddling my hair and catching up with my crush, as I would’ve been in high school. I just needed to be chewing gum and watching rerunsofThe O.C.

We caught up on some work gossip. She was shocked to hear that Mr. West had divorced and was now dating a forty-year-old fashion magazine editor.

“He’s sixty-three!”

“I know!”

“Do you think she’s in it forthe money?”

“I think she’s got her own money. He is quite handsome for his age though, a bit like a Brad Pitt mixed withJim Carrey.”

“That’s the oddest combination I’ve ever heard.” Brooke laughed.

We spoke at length about what she did in her free time, which was noticeably more interesting than what I did. She played golf; that was new. She liked to sing at a karaoke bar every other Friday, also new. I’d never heard her sing.