Chapter 6 #3
I jumped again, thankfully not so dramatically this time. ‘No, sorry, I thought I recognised it, that’s all. I haven’t thought about that band in at least a decade. You’re a fan?’
‘Yeah, I love all the stuff from back then. I think they’re still going! How about you – what are you listening to?’
‘Me? Oh, just white noise in here. Helps me focus when I write.’
‘Preach. But, as an audio-processing weirdo, can I offer you a tip?’
He speaks my language.
‘Sure.’
‘Have you ever tried pink noise? It’s like white noise but much warmer and softer – I way prefer it.’
‘This is new information.’
‘There’s a YouTube video that runs for hours. Shall I see if I can find it for you?’
‘Sure!’ I unlocked my phone and handed it over. He angled the device towards me as he opened a browser window and navigated to the pink noise video he had in mind.
‘Here you go. Try it.’
I put my headphones on and pushed play. The lusciousness of the sound that greeted me almost made me melt into my chair.
It felt like my brain was being caressed by smooth caramel.
My face must have given away my borderline arousal because, when I opened my eyes, which had involuntarily closed, Ethan’s shoulders were shaking in amusement.
I shook myself into reality and removed my headphones. ‘I’m converted, thanks.’
‘Happy to be of service.’
We took synchronised sips of coffee, neither of us choosing to disappear into our respective noise-cancelled worlds quite yet.
‘The guy who works here was just telling me that you did all these illustrations? They’re really great.’
He blushed again. ‘Oh, yeah. A bit of a side hustle.’
‘You’re not a full-time illustrator?’
‘No, my actual job is at an ad agency not far from here – I’m one of their graphic designers.’
His life sounded like something straight out of a Hallmark movie.
‘Oh, well, hopefully your illustrating skills get a workout in your day job every once in a while?’
‘Ha, much less often than I’d like. Let’s just say that some of my clients are more receptive to my artistic preferences than others.’
‘Your clients sound like my clients.’
‘You work in advertising?’
‘No, but I write speeches for people who think they already know what they want to say.’
Ethan spluttered slightly as he took a sip of his coffee, to the extent that he needed to wipe his chin with a napkin. It featured one of his illustrations, depicting a sleeping monarch.
Nap king. Ha.
‘You’re a speechwriter?’
‘Yep.’
‘This is… weird. But I’m literally writing a speech right now. Or, well, I’m trying to.’
‘Oh! What for?’
‘My brother’s wedding. I’m the best man. But, God, let’s just say that writing isn’t one of my greatest strengths at the best of times and I’ve hit a wall. And the thought of having to stand up and say it all out loud in front of a bunch of people I barely know…’ He shuddered.
‘Yeah, I get it. Public speaking is one of my biggest fears.’
‘Wait, you’re a speechwriter who’s scared of speeches?’
I grinned and shrugged. ‘Sometimes the best tactic is to hide in plain sight. Giving a wedding speech is a bit different, though, because the audience is already on your side. May I…?’ I nodded towards his laptop.
‘Sure, be my guest.’
He spun his laptop around to face me. I pressed my own closed and moved it aside.
I scanned through the few hundred words he’d written so far. There was some nice stuff in there, but I could see the key issue with it immediately.
‘Okay, so you need to start with this anecdote – or something like it – and then go into the rest of the speech from there.’
I pointed to a paragraph buried in the middle of the prose. Ethan read the section I was referring to and squinted quizzically.
‘You think so? I thought I had to begin with all the formal stuff?’
‘Nah, you can come onto those bits as the speech progresses. But you need to start off with something funny that will get people to sit up and listen. Make them connect with you so they pay attention to everything else you say. The best way to do that is to start telling a story. And this story about the time your brother’ – I re-familiarised myself with the anecdote – ‘mistook your boss for your girlfriend… is a great way to do that.’
‘Huh. Okay, thanks! I’ll give that a go.’
Ethan’s attention returned to his screen and I took a slurp of coffee. This conversation had really… conversed. And, much to my surprise, I didn’t want it to stop doing so quite yet. I took his choice not to re-don his headphones as permission to keep talking.
‘He really mistook your boss for your girlfriend?’
‘Yeah, it was the most awkward thing. Not least because we were out with clients who he also mistook for her parents. And I was actually secretly dating another colleague that my boss didn’t know about yet.’
‘Yikes.’
‘“Yikes” is precisely the correct word. So, you’re British, then?’
‘Very much so.’
‘You live over here?’
‘No, just visiting.’
‘With friends?’
No, with my bonkers mum and equally bonkers sister, who are no doubt currently hatching a plan to abseil down the Statue of Liberty or something of that nature.
‘Just me.’
I figured the truth was far too complicated for this unexpected small-talk situation.
‘Ah, a solo trip.’
I removed a loose flake of pastry from my croissant and popped it in my mouth. ‘Yep.’
‘So how come you’re here alone?’ he asked, closing his laptop and resting his chin on his hands, seemingly happy to forget about his speech for the time being.
I shrugged, trying hard to do so nonchalantly, as if being in New York City by myself was a regular occurrence as opposed to a one-off trip made under duress.
‘I can work from anywhere, and I’ve been meaning to visit in December for a while.’
At least that part was true.
‘It’s a great time of year to be here, that’s for sure.’ He glanced at his watch, exhaled loudly through his nose and downed the remainder of his coffee. ‘Okay, as much as I wish I, uh, didn’t have to, I’ve gotta head to work. It was really great meeting you, Flora.’
‘You, too. And good luck with that speech. The main advice I always give to clients is to be yourself. People can tell when you’re being inauthentic.’
He chuckled as he packed his things away. ‘If you knew me, you probably wouldn’t suggest that.’
‘Well, from what I’ve seen, I don’t regret my choice of words.’
Bold, Flora!
But what was the harm in a bit of casual flirting? Goodness knows I was out of practice – if indeed I’d ever been in it. And it wasn’t as if I was ever going to see him again.
Ethan’s grinning face was now almost the same colour as the burgundy beanie he was pulling over his wavy, dark blond hair.
He slung on his backpack and placed his headphones over his ears as I did the same with mine.
We doffed them in farewell at each other as if they were caps.
And then, with the jingle of a bell, he was gone.
Nice guy. Shame he lives thousands of miles away.
I dismissed the thought as soon as it arrived: I was so far off even contemplating another relationship it was untrue, plus he’d more or less confirmed he was already seeing someone.
Better get used to this, Flora – all the good ones will be taken by now.
Oh hi, internalised misogyny. Still, it was good to know I was still able to recognise the glimmer of a potential crush – yet another skill that had gone unpractised for my entire adult life.
My phone buzzed me to attention: finally, it was Mum:
Mum:
WHERE R U?
Flora:
Just heading back. Didn’t you get my note?
Mum:
NO
I sighed and packed my things away, looking forward to the prospect of a kip.
I wrapped my mostly uneaten freebie croissant in one of Ethan’s illustrated napkins, enjoying its royal pun once more.
As I leaned down to store it in the front pouch of my backpack, I noticed the light around me dim slightly.
I looked up, and Ethan was standing there, his glasses in the process of steaming up.
He quickly removed them and rubbed them clean with his scarf while talking.
‘Phew, I’m glad you looked up because I didn’t want to scare you by touching you again.’
I slipped my headphones down and crinkled my nose in confusion. ‘So you thought you’d just… stand there?’
‘Ha, yeah. Still weird?’
I looked him in the eye, deadpan. ‘Yep. But “weird” is just another word for “interesting” in my book.’
‘Well, in that case I hope this idea of mine will pique that very interest.’
Where the hell was this going?
My phone trembled again.
Mum:
GET A MOVE ON, WE’LL BE LATE
For fuck’s sake, late for what?
‘Sorry, I’m meant to be somewhere.’
‘Oh, okay, let’s just forget about it, then…’
‘No, no – I’m intrigued. What did you have in mind?’
He put his glasses back on before the words fell out of him like a magician’s endless handkerchief. ‘Sooo… I was wondering if I could commission you to write this damn speech for me? You obviously know your shit and I’ve been literally losing sleep over it.’
‘Oh, I really don’t think I’ll be able…’
‘Please. I’ll pay you whatever your standard rate is. Or more. I just need to get this thing written so I can think about something else and, I dunno, look forward to my brother’s wedding instead of dreading it.’