blocks down from his apartment in the East Village, on his way to work. I asked him once how he manages to eat so much without becoming the size of a small planet, and he informed me that he has an ‘excellent metabolism’. I reckon it’s more to do with the fact that he runs five miles every day, goes to the gym regularly and seems to spend most of his free time running after (or being chased by) the beautiful women of New York.
After several minutes of happy munching, Ed gave the meat monstrosity a time out and shot me one of his serious looks.
‘So what about your dating history, Rosie?’
Uh-oh. This was one road trip I knew all too well:
YOU ARE NOW ENTERING UNCOMFORTABLE
Population: Just Me
I tried a detour. ‘Not much to tell, really.’
Of course, this wasn’t likely to put him off. In hindsight, it was probably the worst thing I could have said: there is nothing Ed Steinmann likes more than a challenge. I might just as well have slapped him in the face with a gauntlet.
‘Oh, come on, Rosie, there must have been guys you left back in old Blighty?’
‘Umm…’
‘Buzzzz! Hesitation!’ Only Ed could turn an embarrassing conversation into a quiz show. ‘Travelled across the Pond leaving a string of broken hearts behind you, eh?’
I swallowed hard. ‘Something like that.’
‘And then there was…where was it you came here from? DC? Chicago?’
‘Boston.’
‘Ah, Boston. So—any broken hearts there?’
‘I—no, OK? Can we change the subject, please?’
Ed held up his half-eaten sandwich in surrender. ‘Hey, I’m just making conversation. You’ve been here, what, six years and we’ve never seen you dating.’
I let out a long sigh. ‘I don’t have time to date.’
Ed took another bite and munched thoughtfully. ‘That’s because you spend half your life chasing the whims of that mad journalist friend of yours.’
‘Ed, that’s unfair. Celia’s a good friend.’
‘So how come she’s never set you up on a date then?’
‘Ed!’
‘I’m just making an observation. I mean, there must be countless eligible hacks at the Times.’
I folded my arms in a vain attempt to feel less vulnerable. ‘Since when was my love life such an area of fascination for you?’
‘It’s not just me, it’s Marnie too. Actually, mainly Marnie, to be honest. She worries about you.’
Knowing that my staff were discussing my personal life was more than a little disconcerting. It wasn’t that I minded them caring for me—that’s something that I’d always found about my team and it was great to know we all looked out for one another. It was more that I didn’t want to discuss my love life with anyone, especially not my past in London or Boston. Believe me, I had my reasons.
‘Well, she shouldn’t worry. I’m fine. Besides, between the two of you I think we have the eligible contingent of Manhattan pretty much covered, don’t you?’
He nodded. ‘Good point. So, ask me about my love life then, seeing as you don’t have time for one.’ Ed has this amazing capacity for making you smile when you really should be hitting him hard. It is completely disarming but devastatingly effective.
‘Fine. Who’s the lucky lady tonight, pray tell?’
Ed looked like the cat that got the cream, sapphire blue eyes twinkling. ‘Lawyer.’
‘Oh, nice.’
‘Yep, she is.’
‘Name?’
‘Mona. I think she’s Italian.’
‘Let me guess: second name Lisa, can’t really tell what she’s thinking, bit of an oil painting?’
Ed was unmoved by my humour. ‘Maybe you should call 911, Rosie. My sides are in the process of splitting. No, she’s representing my cousin Klaus.’
‘What’s he up for?’
Ed rested his sandwich on the counter and wiped his hands with a paper napkin. ‘How come you instantly assume my family are all crooks?’
I looked sheepish. ‘Sorry.’ It was nice to be in control of the conversation at last.
‘Hmm. Well, don’t do it again, Duncan. No, he’s being sued by a former patient who claims Klaus hypnotised him during one session, causing him to make a series of disastrous business decisions, which led to the collapse of his company.’
‘Is your cousin a hypnotherapist?’
‘No—that’s the crazy thing. He’s a psychiatrist. All my family are psychiatrists, for pity’s sake, apart from me.’
‘Is this client likely to win?’
‘No way. The guy’s clearly a nut, but hey, this is New York: sneeze in the wrong place and someone’s going to sue your ass from here to eternity. Mona reckons the judge will take one look at him and throw the case out. But, while we’re waiting for that to happen, I owe it to my cousin to ensure that his lovely lawyer is as fully briefed as possible.’
‘Knowing you, it’s probably more a lack of briefs you’re interested in?’
‘Hey, so she just couldn’t resist me. What can I tell ya?’
‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,’ I laughed, taking our mugs to Old F for a refill.
‘See, Rosie? Look at all the fun you’re missing out on.’
‘Lawyers aren’t my type and I don’t know any psychiatrists.’
‘Then try a policeman, or a photographer—or a taxi driver, even. Heck, anyone would be worth a shot, if only to get you “out there” again! How about we get Marnie to recommend one of her exes?’
Bringing the filled mugs back, I gave one to Ed and sat down. ‘I don’t think so, thank you very much. Somehow I don’t think any of them will be my type. Now drop it and eat that cow in bread you’ve got there.’
‘Don’t try diversionary tactics. You know they won’t work on me. Just be prepared for us to keep bugging you about it, OK?’
I ignored a sinking feeling and attempted a breezy smile. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less.’
‘Uh-huh,’ Ed agreed, resuming his one-man onslaught on the mountain of meat.
I
