I am not naïve. Not anymore, I mean. If anyone ever discovers mine and Lincoln’s relationship, I know that they will call me a gold digger. It would be their knee-jerk response to try and understand what we have. There is no doubt that the financial disparity between us is huge. It isn’t something that crosses my mind daily, but this morning we are swimming in his indoor pool, while breakfast is floating around on the inflatable food tray. I can’t help but compare it to the picnic on the rug that I hosted in my flat months ago. Does it matter that our dates, gifts and tokens will always be at opposite ends of the financial spectrum? The question bothers me as I pop another slice of honeydew melon into my mouth.
“Are you OK?” Lincoln asks me, he’s becoming an expert in my body language, a
