He would come every evening shortly after dusk, pick the darkest corner table, and watch me. He was very handsome, very refined, well dressed. Not at ...ll the sort you would have expected to frequent a whorehouse, more the sort to keep a mistress or two stashed away somewhere. ‘Often he would bring a book, and write by the light of a single candle for hours. Once I caught him sketching me. Always he came alone. ‘One evening, shortly before closing time, I brought out some of my papers to work. The whole world looks like there’s vaseline on the lens. Jasmine stands up, as if to come out to me. AJ says something with a patient expression on his face, and she stops. They’re talking now, and I take the opportunity to leave. I don’t exactly run. But I get pretty close. Needless to say, my night has been thoroughly ruined. I feel like such an idiot. What did they think, seeing me staring at them through the window like a lost puppy? Fuck fuck fuck! I mean, Jesus, what were the odds of me. More

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