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I suddenly wonder what costs Darren expects me to cover. I certainly can’t afford the plane ticket.
“I bet guys with money like to show off to anyone and everyone,” I add. I think about the designer clothes Darren wears, the fancy nightclub he owns, and the Porsche Pana-whatever car he drives that he and I joked about as a penis extension.
Simone reaches for another slice of pizza topped with mushroom and pineapple. I had thought it an odd combination at first, but to my surprise, it works. “So you don’t see it as serious?”
“Definitely not. We don’t know each other that well. He’s not even my type.”
“What’s your type?”
“Someone non-glamorous who wouldn’t be caught dead at a fundraiser for Drumm.”
“You were at one.”
“I didn’t know it was a fundraiser for him! Did I tell you Darren’s ex is dating Drumm’s son, Eric?”
“She sounds like a bitch.”
I reach for a second slice of pizza for myself. “She’s not wrong when she says that Darren is ‘slumming’ it—”
“Bitch.”
“—but I’m not his type in other ways, too. I’m opinionated, politically progressive, not a lingerie model…”
“Opposites attract all the time.”
“But those attractions don’t last, or they make for a rocky relationship.”
“So the sex is good, then.”
Recalling how Darren made me climax through a foot massage, I don’t respond right away.
Simone grins. “Yeah, I knew it. It has to be something if all that you said is true.”
“It’s good,” I mumble into a bite of pizza.
“Well, enjoy it. I bet Thailand is a great place to have sex.”
“Even if Darren is serious about it, I can’t go. I don’t have a passport, I have classes—”
“Get the class notes from someone, and Amy can help you with stats.”
“—and my job and my current internship.”
“How long are you going to be gone?”
“I don’t even know. Thailand seems so…so random. I thought Darren was joking.”
“You’re going to turn down an all-expenses-paid trip to Thailand?”
“I don’t know that it’s ‘all-expenses-paid,’” I continue to protest.
“Well, if you’re not going, I’ll go in your place.”
The conversation turns to a different topic after that. After we clear the table, I head back into the room I share with Amy, ready to attack the paper I was trying to work on yesterday before Darren showed up.
Amy’s clothes cover the floor.
“Sorry,” she says as she digs through a drawer. “I could have sworn I had brought my bikini back here from home, though a new one would be more fun. But the stores aren’t likely to have a great selection of swimwear this time of year. I’m going to have to order something online, which isn’t as fun as trying things on. Plus, I’m going to need a dress for the wedding.”
