The Great Gatsby. B2 / Великий Гэтсби

I turned immediately to Jordan.

“Who is he really?”

“Just some man named Gatsby. He told me he had studied in Oxford, but I don't believe it,” she shrugged her shoulders.

Jordan's tone was similar to the girls' who shared stories of Gatsby being a spy, but it stimulated my curiosity. I wanted to know how he appeared out of nowhere and was able to purchase a house on Long Island.

“Anyway, he hosts huge parties, and I like them. At small parties, there just isn't any privacy,” Jordan noted.

Suddenly, Gatsby's butler appeared next to us.

“Miss Baker? Mr. Gatsby would like to speak to you in private.”

Astonished, Jordan followed the butler into the house.

I was waiting in the hall when the door of the library opened, and Jordan and Gatsby walked out together. He was saying something to her, but his excitement disappeared as soon as other guests started coming up to him to say goodbye. Jordan's friends were rushing her, but she stopped next to me and lingered for a while.

“I have just heard the most amazing thing,” she whispered, “how long were we in there?”

“About an hour, why?”

“Well, I promised not to tell anyone. But it's simply amazing! So here I am, teasing you… Come and see me! Find my aunt's name in the phone book,” she spoke quickly before disappearing in the crowd.

The party was fading away into the early morning hours. Feeling embarrassed that I had been staying for so long, I went to find Gatsby to apologize one more time.

“Don't mention it,” he said kindly and put a hand on my shoulder, “and don't forget we're going for a walk tomorrow.”

The butler appeared once again to tell Gatsby someone from Philadelphia was calling. He wished me goodnight, and I felt glad to be one of the last to leave.

Now that I think of that summer, it may look like I was completely absorbed by these parties, but it wasn't so. I spent most of my time working in New York, where I had a routine that involved working at a place called the Probity Trust. I knew other employees and salesmen pretty well, and we often had lunch in dark crowded restaurants, where I ordered sausages and mashed potatoes and drank coffee. Apart from that, I started a relationship with a girl from the accounting department, but her brother disliked me, so our relationship didn't last long. I dined at the Yale Club and studied investments in the library. My days were filled with work, but I found myself increasinglydrawn to the city's energy at night. I liked the adventurous feel of New York after dark, walking through the streets, imagining the lives of the people I passed, and feeling a connection to the city's restless spirit. However, this sense of connection was often paired with loneliness, especially when I saw others actively enjoying the city's nightlife while I remained an observer.

During the summer, I found Jordan Baker again. I was flattered to be seen with her because she was a famous golf champion and everyone knew her name, but my feelings grew more complex. I wasn't in love, but I felt a tender curiosity about her. When we went out one time, she left a rented car with the roof down, and it started raining. Jordan lied about it, and I recalled a story I read about her in the press. The newspapers and magazines claimed that during her first big golf tournament, she cheated by moving the golfball a little. I discovered that she was a dishonest person in general. She avoided clever, observant men because she felt safer in situations where her dishonesty wouldn't be noticed. She could not stand being at a disadvantage. This trait didn't bother me much – I was only briefly sorry before forgetting about it.