“Is my mom sick?”
“No, God no, nothing like that.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s just she’s… well, she’s… cheating on your dad.”
Marissa couldn’t believe it. “My mother?”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to tell you, especially not now when-”
“You sure you didn’t misunderstand something?”
“Positive. She was talking about how it’s been going on for months and she keeps wanting to break it off but she can’t.”
For months?
“With who?” Marissa asked.
“You know him,” Hillary said.
“Oh God, who?”
“Tony.”
“Who’s Tony?”
“You know- Tony, that trainer guy at New York Sports Club.”
It took a few moments to register then Marissa said, “You mean that big guy with the thick Bronx accent?”
Hillary nodded uncomfortably.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Marissa said.
“Swear to God,” Hillary said. “See? I shouldn’t’ve told you.”
Marissa saw a flash of her mom and Tony together- naked. It was kind of funny.
“Who would’ve thought?” Marissa said. “My mom and a bodybuilder. Good for her.”
“Wait, you’re not upset?”
“Upset? Why would I be upset? If I was my mom I would’ve cheated on my dad years ago. Maybe my parents’ll finally get divorced, put all of us out of our misery.” She finished her cosmo in one gulp, then added, “Honestly, this is by far the best news I’ve heard all day.”
seven
Johnny Long was walking uptown on Eighth Avenue, on his way back from Slate, a pool hall in Chelsea where he’d hustled a hundred- something bucks off some drunken stockbroker, heading toward the touristy bars around Times Square, where he hoped to find a decent- looking woman to screw and rob, when the rain started. It was coming down hard, lightning and thundering, and didn’t seem to be letting up. He waited it out for a while under an awning, then dashed across the street to the Molly Wee Pub on Thirtieth and Eighth, figuring he’d wait out the storm there.
When he entered the Irish bar, he noticed five women checking him out. This wasn’t unusual; women checked him out wherever he went. His looks had always been his biggest asset and his biggest liability. It was great to look hot when he wanted to pick up a woman, but during a stretch at Rikers being known as “Johnny Pretty,”“J. Lo” and- the worst-“Jenny from the Block” had caused him seven and a half months of total hell.
Johnny often got mistaken for Johnny Depp, and not just because they had the same first name. He was bigger than Depp, more muscular, but their faces looked alike- both had that sleepy, washed- out look- especially when he let strands of his longish, greasy dark hair fall over his light blue eyes. He also got mistaken for Jared Leto every once in a while, or one of the other guys in 30 Seconds to Mars.
He sat at the bar, ordered a club soda with a wedge of lime- he didn’t touch alcohol- and checked out his options. Two of the women were with guys- not impossible, but it made things a little harder, and he wasn’t in the mood for hard. So it was down to the thin girl with dark hair who was at the table with a group of friends, the girl with dark curly hair or her blond friend at the end of the bar, or the older blonde who was alone at a table near the door. He wasn’t attracted to any of the women, not that that mattered.
He sipped his club soda and looked up at the basketball game on TV, deciding to let fate decide for him. It would save him some work, and besides, the odds of picking up a woman were much better when he let the woman make the first move. If he went over to one of the women his chances would still be very good, but it would require much more charm and effort, and if it turned out the woman was married or had a serious boyfriend there was a chance Johnny wouldn’t be able to pull it off. But he knew if he did nothing, just sat and waited for a woman to come over to him, he would almost definitely score.
Although he wasn’t looking at any of the women, he could feel their eyes on him. He just knew that they wanted him so badly, that they were just dying to be with a hot guy like him, a Johnny Depp look- alike, for chrissake. At one point, he looked casually beyond the bartender and in the mirror behind the bar saw that the blonde and the girl with the dark curly hair were still looking in his direction, obviously talking about him. The dark- haired girl was probably saying something like “God, he’s so cute,” and the friend was egging her on, saying, “Go ahead, talk to him, what’re you waiting for?” That was the way it always happened. It was so predictable it was almost boring.
Sure enough, about a minute went by, and then Johnny heard, “Excuse me?” He looked over and saw the girl with the dark curly hair. She was overweight, and there was nothing particularly attractive about her face. She was someone Johnny would normally pass in the street and barely notice.
“Did anybody ever tell you you look just like Johnny Depp?” she asked. She was blushing badly and looked even less attractive closer up in brighter light. Her makeup looked caked on, especially around her eyes, which weren’t blue or even green. He could tell that she was terrified and it took all her nerve to go up to a guy as good- looking as he was and actually say something. He also knew that his initial reaction to her was key: She wasn’t just going up to him to hit on him; they were actually hooking up unconsciously. He had to show her instantly that he was attracted to her, but more importantly that he was a good guy, someone she could trust.
He smiled widely, letting her see his perfect white teeth, and looked right in her eyes like he was totally enamored with her. He knew humble was the way to go and said, acting totally blown away and flattered, “You really think so?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Haven’t you heard that before?”
“Never,” he said. “Wow, you really made my day.”
He maintained eye contact, letting her notice his light blue eyes, which women often complimented. In fact, just last night the woman he’d picked up in Brooklyn told him that he had the most beautiful blue eyes she’d ever seen. He wound up screwing her, but he’d gotten away with only about a hundred bucks and no jewelry. Hopefully this woman would be a bigger score.
“By the way, I’m Gregory,” Johnny said and held out his hand. She was so taken by him she waited an extra beat, then said, “Oh, I’m Theresa.” He held her hand for a few seconds longer than necessary, letting her know that he liked her, that he was interested. It was so easy to pick up women; at least for him it was. He knew he didn’t have to come on strong and try to impress them with a fancy job and make them laugh nonstop. Women wanted to be noticed, and they wanted to be respected. All you had to do was be attentive, listen to a woman, show her that you cared about what she was saying, and you were halfway there. It was so simple that it always amazed Johnny when he saw guys blow easy lays by going on and on about themselves. What were they trying to do, scare the women away? Yeah, Johnny knew his looks helped him out a lot, made him even more irresistible, but even an ugly guy could pick up practically any woman he wanted, if he could make her feel special, like she was the only person in the world that mattered.
Johnny made small talk with Theresa-Where are you from? Do you live around here? What do you do for a living?-but instead of just firing off the questions machine- gun style like the average guy, he really listened to the answers and of course, he maintained eye contact the whole time. She said she worked as an office manager at a PR agency, which disappointed him because it didn’t sound like she had big bucks. Still, she seemed pretty well off- middle class at least- and he was encouraged when she dropped that she lived alone. Roommates were always problematic.
He didn’t say a word about himself until she asked him; then he did his best to tell her what she wanted to
