“Finnish?” one of the men a few feet from me asked. I shook my head then said American, and the man smiled in relief as he tried to chat me up, what brought me to England and all that. I imagined what Gavin would do, that boy with heavy-lidded eyes who had expounded on glory holes in English seminar long ago.

“I’m a student on holiday,” I said.

“Do you like London?”

“It’s fine.”

As if finished with him, I stretched out my body and leaned back, spread my arms around the lip of that circular hole in the ground, then closed my eyes. Maybe this was all I needed. Maybe this was worth the ten pounds, this feeling of being wanted even if I didn’t want back. I smiled at the sudden thought that this was all economic, except the trade was not in money but in desire. Aware of my stock’s value, I was unwilling to involve myself with anyone who was not of comparable wealth. This was not the system I grew up with, the one that prized qualities like kindness and loyalty above all else, that didn’t think of desire the same as capital. But this was something I didn’t need to worry too much about, when I was the one who led the market.

There was a pleasant thrum in the periphery of my vision when I opened my eyes, a slim shape that emerged from the pool and came to join me in the hot tub. There was confidence in his expression from the moment I could fully discern his face, eyes full of mischief and pleasant symmetry. He had clearly seen what was on offer in this place and judged himself a prize, just like I had done. Now that he was here with me, we could come together because we were worthy of each other.

I introduced myself, and he recognized my accent as American. His name was Danny.

“I’m from Liverpool,” he said, pronouncing “pool” a millisecond longer than I expected as his intonation rose and his lips pursed. I resisted the urge to copy him.

“So what brings you here?” I asked.

“Same as everyone,” he replied. “I’m new to blokes. I’ve a lass at home.” He added that he worked in construction, which explained his tan complexion, his ease of movement with muscles developed doing manual labor, not sculpted at the gym like mine.