“Your first official day without Vanessa metaphorically breathing down your neck,” Pax says as he lounges on a rented chair under a blue umbrella and lifts his shades up to look at me. “Must feel bloody fantastic.” “She blew up my fucking phone last night—everything from death threats to sobbing apologies. I'm thinking of blocking her.” “Thinking of it? Jesus, give me your phone and I'll do it for you.”
