Page 150 of The Way the Heart Breaks: Jade’s Story

Jade chokes on her water, and I reach over and pat her back. “Are you okay?”

Jade leans and whispers, “You do know Pretty Woman is a movie about a hooker, don't you?”

“Um, no. You know I didn’t mean that, right?” I mean, I didn’t but now, I’m really fucking curious. So, I lean in and whisper. “You watch porn?”

“No!” Jade gasps as she stands and walks around the table and holds her hand out for Tessa. “Can we go to the bathroom, please?”

Lucas looks at me. “What the hell was that?”

“I thought Pretty Woman meant pretty woman.”

He shakes his head. “You're an idiot.”

“Thanks.”

“We'll need a few more minutes,” Lucas says.

“Take your time,” she smiles before she leaves.

I look toward the bathroom. “Think she's mad?”

Lucas shrugs. “Probably not.”

“That's reassuring.”

He laughs.

A few minutes later, the girls come back.

Jade sits down and won’t look at me, so I lean toward her and whisper, “Hey, pretty girl.”

She tries not to smile, but it doesn't work. “Don't.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I honestly didn't know.”

“I know.”

Then the waitress returns. Tessa orders chicken parmesan with spaghetti. Lucas, the filet, medium rare. Jade, lobster ravioli, and I order a New York strip, medium rare.

The waitress then opens the bottle of wine, offering each of us a glass; that's one thing that Linda Lane allows, a glass of wine at dinner. I’m sure she thinks it's sophisticated; it's clear that the Ross girls’ mothers and fathers haven't offered the same.

“We're all set for now,” Lucas tells her, and she sets it down and leaves.

“If you ladies would excuse us for a minute, I need to use the bathroom,” Lucas says.

Jade looks at me when I don't stand. “You should go with him.”

After already fucking up with the whole Pretty Woman thing, I don't want to mention that men don't typically need their friends to take a piss, so I get up and go.

“Is this feeling a little awkward to you?” I ask, standing at the urinal.

“Pissing next to you, talking about feelings?” he asks, with a chuckle. “Not even a little.”

“Must just be me then,” I say as I shake it off.