“Here’s your rosemary.” Nathaniel puts a fragrant bundle into my arms. “Anything else?”
“Um … yes!” I say quickly. “Could I have some mint?”
I watch as he moves carefully over the rows of herbs to where mint is growing in large stone containers.
“Actually …” I force myself to sound careless. “Actually, the relationship wasn’t that bad. In fact, I think I’ve pretty much got over it.”
Nathaniel looks up, shading his eyes against the sun. “You’ve got over a seven-year relationship in a week?”
Now that he puts it like that, it does sound a bit implausible. I cast around quickly in my mind.
“I have great reserves of resilience,” I say at last. “I’m like … rubber.”
“Rubber,” he echoes, his expression unreadable.
Was rubber a bad choice of word? No. Come on, rubber is sexy.
Nathaniel add
