#Chapter372
I locate a bottle of wine, glad of that anyway, even if I don’t rate wine much, especially not red, and hold it up in a bid to get Sophie looking at me, instead of plotting my ex-girlfriend’s demise by chopsticks.
/"Ummm, sure./" Natasha giggles, weirdly. She isn’t a giggler and I wonder if she has already been hitting the booze. I don’t get this act at all, and in the electric light I can see she is pretty dressed up compared to normal. She’s wearing heels and stockings by the look of it and I wonder what gives. She only wore them once, on my birthday the first few months we dated. If she thinks she’s staying for sex, she can forget it. Sophie would never talk to me again and I wouldn’t do that to her. Couldn’t, not with her here. I never even did it when she stayed under the same roof as me, at any time, even when Tash was my girlfriend. With any of the girls I ever dated. It’s been one constant self-made rule in the whole time I have known her.
