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The Chosen and the Beautiful(80)

Author:Nghi Vo

“You know, I had thought you a Southern girl,” he said. “Like Daisy, like so many others I’ve known.”

I pointed at my face.

“That speaks well of you,” I said. “No one thinks I’m a Southern girl.”

“And they shouldn’t. You’re some East Coast thing, aren’t you? Sharp and mean and cold. What a prize you are.”

“Don’t let on you like me like that,” I said. “People will talk.”

He grinned, boyish and easy.

“You think I don’t mean it, don’t you? You shouldn’t. I think you’re pretty wonderful, Jordan. Nick and Daisy sing your praises—”

“If you expect me to believe that either of them talk about me when they’re with you, I have a bridge to sell you,” I said. “It’s a very East Coast thing, selling bridges.”

“They do,” he insisted. “Daisy told me about Fulbright’s, you know. We’re not going to have any secrets from each other. And Nick’s going to marry you.”

His outrageous words made me snap my mouth shut. I sat up straight on the stone balustrade, my ankles twisted together. Gatsby drifted a little closer, setting one hand on the stone beside my thigh.

“Listen,” he said softly. “They adore you. I want to adore you too.”

“There’s nothing stopping you,” I said, shoving down off the stone. It put me closer to him than ever, and this close, it was impossible to ignore my attraction to him, the way he could drink all the light out of the room and present it to you as if it was a special gift, his to give.

“You could make it easier for me,” Gatsby said with mock exasperation concealing real exasperation.

“I could,” I said. “I might. But you do come off awful strong, you know.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head.

“That is certainly something I have heard before,” he said.

He didn’t touch me as I made my way around him. When I looked back, he was gone.

* * *

Whether he meant to or not, Gatsby got his revenge on me by keeping Nick until dawn. There had been some kind of scuffle with Daisy, more likely, with Tom, and when I was ready to leave, Nick came for me with a regretful kiss.

“Sorry, darling. Gatsby wants me to stay for a word after everyone’s gone. Sounds like he’s had a rotten night.”

“And you’re going to make it a little nicer?”

Nick scowled at that, and I reached out to stroke his arm.

“And why shouldn’t you? You’re sweet as sugar, and you always make things a little nicer for me…”

He could sometimes be jollied out of a bad mood if only I was a little sweet with him. The trouble was that I was so bad at being sweet on command.

“Would you like me to walk you back?” he asked, but I shook my head.

“Stay,” I said. “Who knows if you can even get back into this sacred space after you have left it?”

“You could stay too,” Nick suggested, and to my startled delight, he cupped a hand around the back of my thigh. “Plenty of open rooms…”

“You absolute monster,” I said, pleased.

“If I am, you’ve made me one,” he retorted. I let him kiss me for a little while, but then I stepped back with a sigh.

“Come back home as soon as you can,” I said. “I shall languish and fall into a life-in-death faint without you.”

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