It's been hours since she started reading... almost the whole day had gone by actually... but Ruby keeps lying on her couch with her eyes fixed on my tablet. She got up three times only: she went to the bathroom twice and took her phone to order a couple of vegan burgers but it was me the one who opened the door to the delivery guy, gave him a tip and put the food on a plate... she wolfed her fries down while reading and has barely said a word to me except to ask for my charger. Her face show no emotion, I don't know if she's furious or she likes what she's reading... she's just lying there... I'd heard before that my stories had that effect on people but I'd never seen it in person.
In the meantime I unpacked my suitcase, placed the stuff of my toilet bag on an empty shelf of her bathroom, hanged my clothes on a corner of her massive closet and piled up my sneakers and shoes on a small area of the floor next to her own sneakers. I was careful in order to be extra neat and tidy, not that I'm not usually careful with my things, but I don't know if I live with a stickler for neatness and I don't want to start a fight. I also washed the dishes we used with the burgers and played with her dogs, running around the swimming pool in the backyard. And now we're sitting in the outdoor living room looking at the sky turning pinker as minutes tick by. Charlie has chosen the armchair next to Chance but Ru seems to trust me more than yesterday and she's lying with her head on my thigh while I'm petting her. The sound of someone clearing her throat snaps me back to reality: Ruby's standing in front of me with my tablet in her hand while staring at me...
"So... I read a whole book and halfway through the second one... It's a very captivating story set in Victorian England in the late 19th century, you know. There's this woman, whose name's Ruby and looks just like me minus the tattoos, she's from a good family and spends her time and money on the promotion of young artists, poets and musicians and also attends a lot of social gatherings... But when the night comes she gets rid of her wig, fixes her short brown hair, puts on a masculine pant suit and walks the streets like... let's say... the female version of Sherlock Holmes. She's very, very intelligent actually..."
"I know..." I whisper with a weak voice.
"And then there's her nemesis... a shameless, impertinent and very funny thief called Laia who loves driving Ruby out of her mind while stealing jewels under the nose of the aristocratic society of London wearing a black hood and mask. But somehow she always helps the detective to solve her cases when other criminals, more dangerous, are involved: she protects her and gives her information about the underworld. Their love/hate relationship is what gives consistency and coherence to the plot... Although Ruby is always emphasizing, maybe too much, that she's in love with Lady Dorset, a young widow who's the perfect aristocrat, a bit boring but very elegant and that always keeps her poise with dignity and is kind to everyone..."
"Yes..." I confirm while keeping my eyes fixed on Ru's fur. I feel the couch dipping next to me when my mate sits down and lets the tablet drop on the coffee table.
"I haven't read the end of the second book yet but I'm pretty sure that... Laia the thief and Lady Dorset is the same person..." I nod this time quietly and Ruby chuckles by my side. "Oh my God... The detective is going to burst into rage when she finds out. She's really disappointed with herself right now because she gave in to temptation again betraying her love... that chapter with Laia in a dark corner of Hyde Park it's really... explicit... and hot as hell." Her last words sound like a purr and Ruby's breath fans my cheek sending a shiver down my spine, I bite my lip hard trying to hold my tears back.
"I'm sorry..." I whisper swallowing hard and not daring to look at her.
"Why are you sorry?" she asks slightly amused.
"I never meant to... offend you... you weren't supposed to find out about my books... Some scenes are too... I'm so sorry..." I whisper again while hiding my face behind hands and remembering each and every word I wrote about her fingers and tongue doing things that should be illegal because of the danger of setting the bed on fire while you're reading... at least that's what my readers claim.
