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Bruce is practically screaming with laughter now.
“Yeah, that was one of my faves too. My older brother had a subscription and I’d jerk off over every issue. Those pages were caked with gunk by the time we threw them out. But that poor girl,” he says as he catches his breath. “I mean, clearly she must be somewhat mad still if that’s how you guys ended things. But yeah, it would have been way worse if she’d seen what you were doing.”
I shake my head, confused and frustrated. “Yeah, it’s fucking ironic. I mean, I’ve honestly never thought too much of it, but it seems like it’s this big roadblock in her head.”
Bruce’s face turns serious as he considers my statement. “Well, how did things end the last time you saw her? As in, after your hookup?”
I shrug. “Things were fine. She stayed over. I made her breakfast. We mentioned maybe meeting up again, but nothing definitive.”
“You can cook?” Bruce cocks an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a thousand staff members and your own private chef?”
I shrug. “I can fry eggs and cut some oranges,” I say with a smirk. “Girls like that shit.”
Bruce holds up his hands in truce. “Fine. Back to the main question – did she bring it up again? The whole bullying incident?”
“No, breakfast was fine, and then she left.”
Bruce nods, weighing the information I’ve shared. “It sounds to me like she’s thought a lot about you since you guys went your separate ways, which isn’t a bad thing. Like a childhood crush. But I mean, if she stayed over after you hooked up – actually, the fact that she hooked up with you at all – well, that to me doesn’t really sound like someone holding a grudge.” He shifts in his chair. “You’re going to be fine, bud. Just see what happens. Besides, you have quite the reputation for lovin’ and leavin’ then.”
I frown.
“If she’s reading gossip magazines, then of course she’s going to think I’m just some jackass playboy.”
Bruce shrugs.
“Can you blame her? I mean, yeah, you’ve been dating some pieces of work for the past several years.” Bruce says this so matter-of-factly that I can only stare at him as he continues to speak. “That woman a couple months ago was downright scary, and you know what I mean. Because shit, the plastic surgery had her tits up to her chin and her eyes pulled all the way back to her temples. Do you find that attractive?”
I snort.
“No, of course not. I just took a pic with her at a party. It was nothing.”
Bruce shrugs.
“I dunno. I mean, that woman was plastered against you in those photos, my man. Like rubbing her tits on your chest.”
I shrug, annoyed. “Yeah, but I can’t help that. That’s just what these society chicks do sometimes.”
Bruce merely shrugs. “Well, to the rest of the world, it looks like you like a certain type of woman, so I don’t blame your childhood playmate for being a little careful.”
I contemplate Bruce’s words, acknowledging that Ramona could definitely get the wrong impression.
She has substance, I agree in my mind. And charm, and wit, and beauty. She’s not going to be fooled by my reputation.
But Bruce is still talking. “So, don’t take this the wrong way, buddy, but I think it’s high time you met someone who was good for you instead of wasting your life and money on a new, vapid woman-of-the-week every time you get bored.” My friend smirks a little, clearly happy to be the one to confront me about my previous relationship disasters.
I grimace at the harsh words, but at the same time, I know he’s right.
“So I should go for it?” I ask, feeling somewhat irked.
“Hell yeah, I’m telling you to go for it.” Bruce stands up and stretches a little. “If it works out, it’ll be good for you. And if it doesn’t, at least you had a sweet hook-up with a wet woman. Feel free to keep me posted,” he adds with a wicked grin.
“Yeah, whatevs,” I mutter, pissed that he’s describing Ramona with such crude words. She’s different, and deserves to be treated with respect, even by Bruce.
“Good. Remember, we’ve got a meeting at two this afternoon with that guy from Colliers. Business doesn’t rest.”
“I’ll be there,” I assure my friend and colleague. Bruce offers a quick nod of acknowledgement and then leaves my office, presumably to do whatever.
I take a long swallow of my now tepid espresso and let my mind wander toward Ramona for just another moment longer.
Bruce is right.
I’ve been wasting my time on women who are hot, sure, but who have no aim nor purpose in life. They only dated me for my money, and it’s pretty sad. I always come away exhausted, even if none of the relationships last for more than a few weeks.
