‘No, it was fun. I had a bit of a row with my boyfriend, that’s all.’
‘Connor.’
‘He doesn’t like my friends.’
‘Why not?’
‘He thinks that if you don’t want to work on Wall Street you don’t have any ambition,’ she said, feeling slightly traitorous.
‘You’re not a Yuppie,’ he said simply.
‘Is that meant to be a compliment?’ she laughed.
‘Absolutely.’
One word, but it made her feel good. It was another moment before he spoke again.
‘So what is the story with Connor?’
‘The story?’
‘How long have you been together?’
‘Since I was sixteen. We met in school.’
‘And it lasted all the way through uni?’ he asked incredulously.
‘I was at an all-women college.’
‘Connor’s suggestion?’ teased Jim. Jennifer didn’t like to admit that it was.
‘What about you?’ she asked as casually as she could.
‘There’s Emma. She’s cool.’
Jennifer tried to imagine what Emma looked like. She’d be pretty; flowery little dress and big shoes, glasses maybe. She didn’t want to know any more and let the matter drop.
‘I don’t suppose I could hitch a ride home,’ she said, putting her cardigan over her shoulders.
‘You’ve saved me from alligators and the long arm of the law. I think I owe you a lift to Casa D’Or at the very least.’
They looped back round to the pickup truck, an ancient relic that had come with the Lake House, and Jim opened the door for her to hop in. But as the engine gunned to a start, she realised that she did not want the night to end.
‘You know, a tour of the city wouldn’t be complete without seeing one more thing,’ she said, feeling a little provocative.
‘Where should we go?’
‘I’m not saying. Not yet,’ she smiled.
They drove for about ten minutes out of the historic district of the city. The old truck didn’t have air conditioning, and Jim rolled down the windows. They sat in a contented silence.
‘Where are we?’ asked Jim after Jennifer directed him to stop.
‘The Bonaventura cemetery,’ she revealed.
‘Cheerful,’ he said with a nervous laugh. ‘Is this the bit where you reveal you’re a serial killer?’
‘Don’t worry. You’re safe. Very few serials are female.’