“But—”
“Do not have sex with strangers, Nina. You can’t handle it.”
“I’m only talking about one stranger.”
“Don’t do it.”
“Okay, but hear me out.”
“Are you in the ladies’ room? Is there a window? Can you climb out of it? Do you need me to send Dave over to come get you?”
“Just calm down.”
“Okay, but I’d kind of like an excuse to get him out of the house. He’s driving me nuts.”
“Hang on. I’m sending you a picture.” I text her the photo of Vince. “I’m telling you, Marn. Things are happening. There’s something about this guy that I’m responding to on a level that I didn’t even know I had.” I look around to make sure I really am alone in this restroom, lowering my voice anyway. “My panties are completely flooded!”
Marnie guffaws.
“I’m serious! Like…soaked through. There might be something medically wrong with me. I’m losing a lot of fluids.”
“I think your body is celebrating because it never has to see Russell naked again.”
“He looked perfectly fine naked.”
“Oh my God, you’re still defending him!”
“Did you get the picture yet?”
“Hang on.” There is a pause, and then I hear her suck in her breath. “Shhhhia LaBoeuf!” She’s an elementary school teacher too. “That’s the liquor store guy?”
“Yeah.”
“I think I just got pregnant.”
“He’s really cute, right? But I mean. I should get to know him better. Ask him out to lunch tomorrow, so we can talk more? When I’m not drinking?”
“No way. You let that guy leave tonight, and you will never see him again. New plan—you need to get back in the saddle and ride that beautiful man like a bull. Immediately.”
“So it’s okay for me to have a one-night stand with a stranger as long as he’s hot?”
“Hey, I didn’t invent double standards. That guy’s not going to murder you. He has beautiful, sad eyes. You need to drink more and then take him to your place. Make him strip before you let him through the door, though. To make sure he doesn’t have a knife on him. But I am willing to bet he’s packing a long hard weapon of another kind in his pants.”
“Marnie!”
“What? I’m serious. You should be having bathroom sex with him right now instead of talking to me.”
“Eww.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“I just want to keep a clear head for a bit and find out more about him.”
“What else do you need to know about him? Does his penis work and does he have condoms? That is literally all you need to know. You want to know what I found out today? I’m starting to get back fat. Back fat, Nina. This is what you have to look forward to. Spanx City. You’re single now—go have a one-night stand while there are only two parts of your body jiggling around.”
“You are crazy—you’re gorgeous and I’d kill for your body.”
“Awww. You used to just lie to yourself and now you’re lying to me too. So sweet.”
“Okay, I’m going back out there. But if Vince does murder me—talk to Stan at the liquor store. He knows him.”
“Honey, you might black out when that guy’s sperm blast catapults you into the headboard, but he’ll be bringing you back to life in exactly the way you need… I need to eat more cheese.”
After a pause, I say, “Marn? Marnie?”
She hung up.
Marnie sends a text of a surprised mouth-open smiley face and a baguette and a donut. And then she sends a text that says zetywop, because she probably put her phone in her pocket without closing the messages app. That happens a lot.
I look at myself in the mirror, rip off a piece of paper towel and dab off the lip gloss because I don’t want my shiny mouth to slide across Vince’s face if he tries to kiss me.
When I return from the ladies’ room, Vince gets up, steps out of the booth, glares at the guys at the end of the bar, and puts his hand on my hip. It sends a shiver up and down my spine—both his touch and the fact that he’s letting those guys know he’s the only one here who will be putting his hand on me tonight. He’s feeling possessive of me already. And I am fine with that.
He lets me slide into the seat, and even before I’ve settled myself into the booth next to him, he’s staring at my mouth and grinning. He’s noticed that I’ve removed the lip gloss, and he knows exactly what it means. This guy probably knows how to read all the signs. He’s probably seen all of the signs. All of the signs that say yes, please put your beautiful mouth on my mouth.
His body is turned in toward me, either protecting me from the other guys or keeping me from leaving. I don’t even care which. I lean back against the wall, take in a deep, jittery breath, and push my drink away from me.
“You had enough?”
“I think this motherflorker has done its job.”
He laughs—not as surprised as people usually are when they hear me use my faux-swear words for the first time. “Good. You feel better?”
I smile and nod. Oh, beautiful stranger, you have no idea.
He is still staring at my lips and smiling. It may be my imagination, but he seems to be leaning in closer to me, in slow motion, millimeter by excruciating millimeter.
“So, what exactly do you do now? For work, I mean.”
“Care to guess?”
“Please don’t make me guess.”
“I’ll give you a hint. I’m still in sales.”
“Oh shit.” I cover my mouth, because it has been years since I’ve said the word “shit” out loud. I will have to add a quarter to my swear jar. “If you’re a drug dealer, I’m leaving.”
“I’m not a drug dealer. I don’t do drugs.”
I believe him. “Oh Schmidt. Are you an escort? Are you going to charge me for this?”
“Charge you for what, exactly?” His gaze lazily travels from my eyes to my lips, down my neck, and to a place that I’m pretty sure he can’t actually see unless he also has X-ray vision. He might have X-ray vision.
“Um…” My cheeks are burning up.
“I’m just messing with you.” He puts his hand on my arm and squeezes it quickly and gently before placing his hand back on the tabletop where I can see it. “You blush like a schoolgirl. I can’t help it. I really seem like an escort to you?”
“I guess I wouldn’t really know what an escort is like. And you don’t seem like a drug dealer to me either, FYI.”
“Good to know.”
“So what do you sell now?”
“Real estate. Commercial. Restaurants and bars are my specialty. I’m a broker.”
My mother is a residential Realtor in Indiana. I don’t tell him this, because apparently we aren’t sharing that kind of information. But it makes him seem a little more familiar, somehow.
“Yeah? How’d you get into that? Let me guess—you knew a guy.”
“I know a lot of guys. Comes in handy. You know any guys?”