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What the hell did that mean? Ethan was busy with his food when his brows rose, but Lance was ready to explain.
“Diamonds are the gravy,” Lance said. “We’re just saying no other guy would get away with treating women the way you do.”
Almost offended, Xander couldn’t believe his ears. “I’m respectful of women. What the hell?”
“You’re respectful when you’re with them,” Lance said, adjusting to twist more toward him. “Nine times out of ten, how do you get a date?” Xander didn’t respond. “Your people call their people, right? Or the other way around. There’s no… spontaneity.”
“I’m a shit date. Is that what you’re saying?”
Both Lance and Ethan shook their heads. “You don’t go through what the rest of us have to,” Ethan said. “For you, it’s like browsing a catalog. You see someone you like and get Topher to figure it out, then the beautiful, incredible model just appears in the restaurant or outside the event, just there, like you called and ordered her to your bed.”
“Okay, that’s not true.”
But his friends were on a roll. “Women agree to go out with you because they Google you or their people know who you are. They hear ‘rich’ and ‘not an ogre’ and they give you a shot,” Ethan said. “You don’t need to run the gauntlet like the rest of the population.”
“It’s not like you two are out trawling dive bars every Friday night. You clean up good too… You should, I pay you enough.”
Lance opened a hand at Ethan. “And that’s before we even get to how they fall over each other to be perfect for him.”
“Oh, yeah,” Ethan agreed. “Bet they get up to all kinds of kinky shit trying to impress him.”
Exasperated, his mouth opened wide before he got to seeking words. “What the hell are we talking about now?”
“You don’t live in the real world, buddy,” Lance said, eating some more. “Get used to it.”
Ethan leaned over his plate. “You date them while you’re in town… At most, they get a date a week, maybe every other week, depends how busy you are.”
“We’re all married to our jobs,” he said, not appreciating how his friends singled him out.
Neither of them listened. Was he on mute?
“A month later,” Ethan said. “You blow out of town with a ‘see ya, babe.’”
Lance laughed. “But still they’re calling, asking when he’ll be back.”
“Yeah, and when he eventually makes time a million weeks later, they’re happy to be sitting there waiting… On their backs and ready.”
“Okay,” Xander said, dropping his flatware in a clatter on his plate. “What am I? A gigolo now?”
“Sort of the opposite actually,” Ethan said, frowning at Lance, who was nodding.
“We’re saying,” Lance said. “They’re so eager because in the interim, Topher’s been on it, racking up the spend on your Cartier account.”
“I don’t—” Xander stopped talking when his friends laid knowing looks on him. “Okay, it’s possible, just possible, we have accounts with a couple of jewelers.”
“And it’s never him that actually chooses the thing,” Ethan said to Lance.
“No, Topher does that… or he just gives the jeweler a price bracket and an address.”
Both guys turned to him again. “You don’t live in the real world.”
“And no woman would put up with you if it wasn’t for the sparkly, expensive perks.”
“I’m fundamentally unlovable,” Xander said. “That’s what you’re getting at.”
Again, his friends laughed, leaving him in the dark.
“Buddy,” Lance said, slapping a hand on the table. “How many women in the last…?” he thought about it for a second, “let’s say five years… How many of them have brought up marriage with you?”
