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"Oh my gosh. I'm going to be supporting you through everything?"
"And I'm kind of hoping you'll get dinner, too."
Foster stared at me. "Rosalie Sloane, you are lucky that you're my sister and I love you."
"Hey, I'm sure Oliver would pay for me if you didn't want to. Right, Oliver?"
Oliver stared at me for a few seconds, a glint in his eyes as he looked at me, and then he looked at Foster. "Yeah. I probably would," he said with a small smile.
"And you know what, guys?"
"What?" they said in unison.
"You don't have to worry about supporting me for too long, because I'm going to find me a boyfriend, and he's going to want to spoil me. And—"
"Really?" Foster said, laughing. "You think you're going to find yourself a boyfriend who's rich enough to spoil you?"
"Yes. You don't think I can?"
"I'm just saying."
"You're okay with that?" Oliver said sharply, looking at Foster.
"I mean, if she can find him, go right ahead," Foster said, shrugging.
"Really, Foster, you want your sister to..."
"To what?" Foster stared at him, a puzzled expression on his face.
"To pimp herself out?"
"How is she pimping herself out if she gets a boyfriend who wants to spoil her?” He shrugged. “Shit, I’ve dated many women who I’ve spent thousands of dollars on.” He shrugged. “That’s just how it is in relationships. If Rosalie can find a man who wants to treat her, who am I to say no?”
“Thank you, big bro.” I leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re amazing.”
“Yeah. Well, I try. So shall we do steak or—"
"Sounds good to me," Oliver said, nodding. "Well, let me just finish up some work emails, and then we can figure out the plans. Or do you want to choose a comedy show and just let me know?"
"I'll choose," I said. "I know Foster's sense of humor, and I don't want to go to some crappy redneck show."
"What do you mean?" Foster said, raising an eyebrow.
"You love those redneck comics. I don't want to hear any redneck jokes."
"What's a redneck joke?" Oliver said, laughing.
"You know, like, 'What did two rednecks take on a date?'"
"I don't know," Foster said, shaking his head.
"A gun and a fishing rod," I said, laughing.
Oliver and Foster exchanged glances and then looked at me. "You okay, Sis? That wasn't funny."
"Exactly. Redneck jokes aren't funny."
"Um, they're hilarious. Just because you're not hilarious... Oliver, did you think that joke was funny?"
