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“Guys don’t get calledcuntsenough,” I said, letting my rage flow out of me and into the words. “Women get called it a bunch. Especially when they don’t deserve it. But men? They always get calleddickorasshole. But those words aren’t adequate for someone like you, Owen March. You’re most definitely, beyond a doubt, a big oldcunt. A cunty cunt. The Cuntmaster Supreme, if you will.”
Owen’s smile faded. “If this is some sort of joke or piece of performance art, it’s lost on me.”
“You ruined my night!” I shouted, annoyed that he still wasn’t getting it. “We reserved the rooftopmonthsago! And you showed up and snapped your fingers and made us leave!”
Melinda tensed. “You know each other?”
“Ohh.” Owen squinted at me. “I thought you looked familiar. Let me get this straight. You’re shouting at me because you didn’t get to party all night onmyrooftop deck?”
“I’m shouting because you ruined my sister’s birthday!”
“She’ll have plenty more,” he replied simply. “I’m assuming she’s about your age. If you have some weird family where your sister is in her seventies or something, then yeah, I can see why you would be mad. Birthdays are special at that age.”
“My sister is twenty-one!”
“Oh! Good then.” Owen spread his hands. “Then she has lots of birthdays left, knock on wood. What’s the problem?”
I let out a frustrated snarl.
Jude extended a palm toward me. “Amber…”
“Andyou,” I said, rounding on him. “This is as much your fault as his. You flirted with me at the bar last night, with your nerdy programmer talk and your non-alcoholic Roy Rogers drinks. And then youlethim kick me and my sister out!”
Owen gave his partner a goofy grin. “Roy Rogers? You said you were drinking a Seven and Seven. I remember being impressed that you ordered a big boy drink.”
Melinda stood up. “I think this interview is over.”
“Obviously,” Owen replied with a mocking laugh. “At least it was entertaining. Got any parting words for us, Ms. Moltisanti?”
I wanted to throw something. But the conference bridge looked attached to the table. The only other objects were Melinda’s papers. I didn’t want to make her pick them all up.
“Lick my asshole,” I said to Owen as I stormed out.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time!” he replied without missing a beat.
His laughter chased me out of the room, across the office, and out onto the street.
7
Jude
“Well,” Owen said after she left. “That could’ve gone better.”
I wasn’t the kind of man who let himself daydream about women. Yet after last night, Amber was occupying a significant part of my mind.
I didn’t go out often. Getting dragged out to bars to meet with investors was pretty much thelastthing I wanted to do on a Thursday night. The only thing worse than being early to a meeting was being late, though, so I got to the bar long before the meeting time. Just in case. And I stood around at the bar, drinking my dumb drink, and pretended like I fit in.
From the moment I saw her dancing over on the rooftop deck, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The dark, flowing hair. Her heart-shaped face. The curves of her body that moved and swayed with the music, not really in perfect time but not really caring, either. Moving her round ass like she didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her.
And then she caught me looking at her. Normally, that would have been the most embarrassing moment of my night. The kind of thing that made me pay my tab and leave in a hurry.
But then she topped it by appearing next to me at the bar and introducing herself.
Amber was blunt in a refreshing way. It made it easier to talk to her than it otherwise would have been.
And when I found out she was a computer programmer? A silicon valley geek just like me? I found myself saying a silent prayer of thanks to the Ghost of Steve Jobs.
Until Owen appeared and ruined everything.
