Sophie Kinsella - Remember Me?

I pry it open-and find a single diamond strung on a gold chain.

“Like it?”

“It’s…it’s amazing!” I stammer. “I love it! Thank you so much!”

Eric reaches over and strokes my hair. “It’s good to have you home, Lexi.”

“It’s good to be home,” I reply with fervor.

Which is almost true. I can’t honestly say this place feels like home yet. But it feels like a really swish five-star hotel, which is even better. I take out the diamond and look at it in awe. Meanwhile Eric is playing idly with a strand of my hair, a tender expression on his face.

“Eric,” I say, a bit shyly. “When we first met, what did you see in me? Why did you fall in love with me?”

A reminiscent smile flickers across Eric’s face.

“I fell in love with you, Lexi,” he says, “because you’re dynamic. You’re efficient. You’re hungry for success, like me. People call us hard, but we’re not. We’re just intensely competitive.”

“Right,” I say after a slight pause.

To be honest, I’ve never thought of myself as that intensely competitive. But then, maybe I am in 2007.

“And I fell in love with your beautiful mouth.” Eric touches my top lip gently. “And your long legs. And the way you swing your briefcase.”

He called me beautiful.

I’m listening, entranced. I want him to go on forever. No one has ever spoken to me like this, in my whole life.

“I’ll leave you now.” He kisses me on the forehead and picks up the tray. “You sleep well. See you in the morning.”

“See you then,” I murmur. “Good night, Eric. And…thank you!”

He closes the door and I’m left alone with my necklace and my marriage manual and my glow of euphoria. I have the dream husband. No, I have the better-than-a-dream husband. He brought me chicken soup and gave me a diamond and fell in love with the way I swing my briefcase.

I must have been Gandhi.

Flossing-p. 19

Food, see also Daily Meals, Kitchen; Eating Out-p. 20

Foreplay-p. 21

No way. He put in a section on foreplay?

I’ve been flicking through the marriage manual ever since I woke up this morning-and it’s totally, utterly riveting. I feel like I’m spying on my own life. Not to mention Eric’s. I know everything, from where he buys his cuff links to what he thinks of the government to the fact that he checks his scrotum for lumps every month. (Which is a bit more than I bargained for. Did he have to mention his scrotum?)

It’s breakfast time, and we’re both sitting in the kitchen. Eric’s reading the Financial Times, and I was consulting the index to see what I normally eat. But Foreplay looks a whole lot more interesting than Food. Surreptitiously I turn to page twenty-one.

Oh my God. He seriously has written three paragraphs on foreplay! Under General Routine.

“…sweeping, regular motion…normally clockwise direction…gentle stimulation of the inner thighs…”

I splutter on my coffee and Eric looks up.

“All right, darling?” He smiles. “Is the manual helpful? Are you finding everything you need?”

“Yes!” I hastily flick to another section, feeling like a kid looking up rude words in the dictionary. “I was just finding out what I usually have for breakfast.”

“Gianna’s left some scrambled egg and bacon in the oven,” says Eric. “And you usually have some green juice.” He gestures at a jug of what looks like sludgy marsh water on the counter. “It’s a vitamin drink and natural appetite suppressant.”

I suppress a shudder. “I think I’ll give that a miss today.” I take some egg and bacon from the oven and try to quell my longing for three slices of granary toast to go with it.

“Your new car should be delivered later on.” Eric takes a sip of coffee. “The replacement for the one that was damaged. Although I’m guessing you won’t want to drive in a hurry.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” I say helplessly.

“Well, we’ll see. You can’t yet, anyway, until you’ve retaken your driving test.” He wipes his mouth with a linen napkin and gets up. “There was another thing, Lexi. If you don’t mind, I’d like to schedule a small dinner party for next week. Just a few old friends.”

“A dinner party?” I echo, apprehensive. I’ve never really been the dinner-party-throwing type. Unless you count pasta on the sofa in front of Will & Grace as a dinner party.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” He puts his hands gently on my shoulders. “Gianna will do the catering. All you have to do is look wonderful. But if you’re not up to it, we can forget the idea.”

“Of course I’m up to it!” I say quickly. “I’m tired of everyone treating me like I’m an invalid. I feel great!”

“Well, that brings me to another subject. Work.” Eric shrugs on his jacket. “Obviously you’re not up to returning full-time just yet, but Simon was wondering if you’d like to go into the office for a visit. Simon Johnson,” he clarifies. “Do you remember him?”

“Simon Johnson? The managing director?”

“Uh-huh.” Eric nods. “He called here last night. We had a good chat. Nice guy.”

“I didn’t think he’d even heard of me!” I say in disbelief.

“Lexi, you’re an important member of the senior management team,” Eric says patiently. “Of course he’s heard of you.”

“Oh, right. Of course.”

I chew my bacon, trying to look nonchalant-but inside, I want to cheer. This new life of mine gets better and better. I’m an important member of the senior management team! Simon Johnson knows who I am!

Eric is continuing. “We agreed it would be helpful for you to visit the office. It might help bring back your memory-as well as give reassurance to your department.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” I say with enthusiasm. “I could get to know my job again, see all the girls…We could have lunch.”

“Your deputy is standing in for you at the moment,” Eric says, consulting a notepad on the kitchen counter. “Byron Foster. Just till you return, obviously.”

“Byron’s my deputy now?” I say incredulously. “But Byron used to be my boss!”

Everything’s upside down. Everything’s unrecognizable. I can’t wait to get to the office and see what’s been going on.

Eric taps something into his BlackBerry, then puts it away and picks up his briefcase. “Have a good day, darling.”

“You too…er…darling!” I stand up as he turns to face me-and there’s a sudden frisson between us. Eric’s standing only inches away from me. I can just smell his aftershave and see a little nick on his neck where he cut himself shaving.

“I haven’t read the whole manual yet.” I suddenly feel awkward. “Would I normally…kiss you good-bye at this point?”

“You normally would, yes.” Eric sounds stiff too. “But please don’t feel you-”

“No! I want to! I mean…we should do everything just like we usually do.” I’m getting a bit pink in the face here. “So, would I kiss you on the cheek, or…or the lips…”

“The lips.” Eric clears his throat. “That would be the usual.”

“Right.” I nod. “So…um…” I reach out for his waist, trying to appear natural. “Like this? Tell me if it’s not the way I normally do it…”

“Probably just one hand,” Eric says after a moment’s thought. “And it’s usually a bit higher up.”

“Okay!” I shift one hand up to his shoulder and drop the other down, feeling as if I’m ballroom dancing. Then, keeping in position as best I can, I tilt my face up.

Eric has a strange little nodule on the end of his tongue, I suddenly notice. Okay…I won’t look at it. Concentrate on the kiss. He leans forward and his mouth brushes briefly against mine, and I feel…nothing.