“Does Nick know you’re here?” I asked, and he shot me a bemused look. “Of course he doesn’t. He wouldn’t want to hear about a place like this.” I could still feel Nick pressed against my shoulder, hear that soft please, and I shrugged. “You could bring him. He’d come for you.” Gatsby smiled disarmingly. “Oh he won’t do anything for me,” he said. “Nick thinks I’m a social climber. Very Minnesota of him. He can’t forgive people for their origins, and at the same time, he won’t forgive people for trying to overcome them.”
