Page 53 of Reverse Pass
“I think it might be the end of things with Ben. That girl was there this morning when we woke up. And then hearing all that drama with Cameron. He’s young and has plenty of options, why would he want to deal with my shit?”
“Because he’s obsessed with you?”
“Doubt it. Cameron was accusing me of moving my fuckboy in and playing house with him. And honestly, it’s more like, he moved in and found an easy toy to play with. Now that toy is broken and complicated and…”
“I get the metaphor, Vi. Zero possibility though.” She flashes a smile to a middle-aged man whose glass she fills once he chooses the cabernet from the shelf. He eyes her tattoos and black hair carefully, and then his eyes travel down straight to her cleavage. In his defense, the dress she has on has a plunging neckline that draws your eye there, but the way he lingers on it makes me clear my throat.
“Here you go, sir.” She hands him the glass and he flicks his eyes to me for a second before they land back on her.
“Beautiful dress,” he says.
“Thanks, it’s vintage.” She smiles her fake little stunner smile at him, and he turns around.
“More like beautiful boobs. That one might be willing to fly you down to an island for a weekend.”
“Ugh. No thanks. I dated a guy that age once, and they need way too much reassurance.”
We both have a little laugh at the man’s expense, which he can more than afford given the Gucci suit and Valentino shoes.
“Anyway, zero chance he sees you as a plaything, Vi. That boy is playing his cards so carefully, trying so damn hard to seduce you.”
“It was fun while it lasted.” I shrug.
“Why does it have to be over?”
“For starters, did you miss the part where he had a girl over the whole night?”
“So? For all he knew, you and Cameron were going to be breaking the bed in the next room. It was probably a defensive fuck.”
“A defense fuck? Seriously? Where do you come up with this stuff?”
One of the assistant curators walks by and clicks her tongue at us, shaking her head.
“Sorry Ms. A. We’ll keep it PG!” Joss chirps.
She laughs and shakes her head again, headed for a group of donors.
“I’m saying would you want to listen to the guy you’re in love with hookup with his ex-fiancé in the room next to you? And if you didn’t have a choice, wouldn’t you prefer to be fu- have your own companion?” Joss lowers her voice as another attendee comes up for wine.
“Red or white?” she asks.
“What reds do you have?”
We pause our conversation while the asshole makes her list every bottle we have open and provide two samples before he’ll make his choice.
“You’re at a college gallery fundraiser, not Napa asshole!” Joss whisper yells and gives him a discreet finger as he walks away.
“I do not miss working in a restaurant,” I add to the sentiment.
“Where were we?” Joss asks.
“Defensive fu- companions,” I say as a woman taps the Riesling, and I top off her glass.
“Right. So give him a pass.”
“Except I can’t stop wondering about it. About them. If he did…”
I feel the twist in my chest again. The one that makes it feel like I can’t quite catch my breath and I know I’m in trouble.
