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I opened my mouth, but found I had no comeback. Fuck. He had me there.
“See? What’d I say?”
“I’m not that bad,” I finally protested. “What about Sherry?”
Jamie made a face. “You mean she who banged half the neighborhood while you were in Iraq? Zola, why in the fuck would you want to bring her up?”
“Because she wasn’t involved with anyone when we met,” I said, though he was right. I didn’t particularly enjoy remembering how my college girlfriend stepped out for years while I was serving in the Middle East to earn my future law degree. I shrugged. “She’s proof I don’t need it.”
“That ain’t much better.”
“I’m not that bad,” I said again. But even I couldn’t believe it this time.
“How about your neighbor? The one who had to move before her husband caught you?”
I rolled my eyes. “She wasn’t really a neighbor. Renee lived two blocks away.”
“And Allison Spinetti, your neighbor’s babysitter? Her boyfriend was pretty pissed off.”
“Stop.”
“And then, of course, there was Mrs. Fiore,” Jamie continued.
“Allright,” I said sharply. “We do not need to revisit that.”
“We don’t need to revisit the fact that you nailed the hottest teacher at Our Redeemer while the rest of us were learning basic algebra?” Jamie chuckled. “I disagree, my friend. We need to revisit that regularly, if only to admire the accomplishment. And demonstrate a pattern.”
“It was after hours,” I said, as if that mattered. As if it mattered at all when both cheerleaders I’d turned down for the prom so I could do “extra math tutoring” almost found me and my teacher making all sorts of noise in the janitor’s closet.
See what I mean? Not a good guy.
“It’s not an ‘older women’ thing,” I said, trying to explain. “It’s a—”
“‘Taken women’ thing,” Jamie finished for me. “You got grass-is-greener syndrome, Zola. You always did. You see a woman another man wants, and you think you’re missing out.”
I stared into my drink for a long time, suddenly hating the bitter scent of Campari. Was that what it was? Was that the root of this stupid fuckin’ restlessness that overcame me from time to time? Simple fear of missing out?
Thou shalt not covet another man’s wife. Goddamn. Jamie might’ve been right. When it came to women, all I really did was covet, didn’t I?
I hung my head, suddenly feeling like I was in church, about to take my penance. Knowing every request for forgiveness was a damn lie. Dying for a bit of absolution, but sure I wasn’t worthy.
God.Damn.
“Her,” Jamie said, pointing to a trio of cute girls in the far booth, which included Ms. Corkscrew Curls from before. “If you want to turn a new leaf, she’s a good place to start, yeah?”
I sighed. “Which one?”
He shrugged. “Whichever one revs your engine, my friend. I don’t give a shit. The middle one’s got nice tits, though, I’ll give her that. And we already know she likes you.”
Jamie drew an appreciative stare over the girl’s assets. She looked up and caught him mid-survey. Her mouth dropped with shock, but desire flashed in her eyes when she caught me looking with him.
I could see the appeal. I guessed. But when her redheaded friend started making eyes at me too, I turned back to my drink. I was getting more from the orange peel in my glass than those girls.
“I think I might be flying solo tonight,” I said to Jamie.
“What about her?”
I turned toward the other end of the bar, and for a second, my heart stopped. If I hadn’t already been sitting, I’d have fallen over.
