“Is that what I am? A toy?” I say, a hurt expression coming to my face.
Jerome gives me an apologetic look. “Oh Honey, Jerome’s sorry.”
He pulls me in for a hug and I cry out in protest as I’m drenched in his sweat and odor.
“Jerome!”
He laughs and lets go.
I frown and wipe myself off with my towel.
“In the meantime, I say, you throw ya self a party. Get over him in style. Set these three months off on the right foot.”
That brightens my mood, as parties are wont to do. I knew he’d suggest something to cheer me up.
“Perfect!” I say, bouncing on the balls of my feet.
“Ooh girl, don’t get too excited up in here. You gonna give all these boys a heart attack,” Jerome says, eyeing my sports tank top.
I roll my eyes. “I’ll make it for next Monday, that way everyone we know can attend. It’ll be right before St. Valentine’s Day. But no break-up themes! It has to be…hopeful. I don’t want to bring anyone down.”
“Yeah, yeah, just tell me who all is going to be there, other than yours truly of course.”
“Of course,” I agree with a pert smile. “The Girls from work, obviously. Rose, Esmerelda, Antoinette.”
“And I assume everyone we used to work with at the theater. I’ll bring a few of my girls from work too. Make it a real party and shit,” Jerome says. His “girls” are about as female as he is.
I laugh, “Good grief, this thing is going to be gay as anything isn’t it?”
“Then invite you some straight boys! You know Jerome is always down for that.” He gives me a scrutinizing look. “You do know some straight boys, don’t you? Francis hasn’t completely cut you off from the trough.”
“Of course I do,” I say with a frown as I think about it.
“I mean the kind that might be good for a rebound, sweetheart.”
My friends are all in the performing arts in one way or another, which pretty much answers its own question.
“It isn’t supposed to be that kind of a party.”
“It could be.”
“Can’t I just have fun with friends?” I say, hearing how defensive my voice is.
“That’s exactly what I’m aiming for, Honey,” Jerome says with a sardonic smile. “Don’t tell me your pretty ass doesn’t know any men who don’t swim the, uh, Bering Straight?”
I can’t even smile at the play on words because suddenly I’m at a loss to pinpoint how many straight men I actually know. All my “straight” acquaintances were through Francis, and that’s a non-starter.
Truth be told, Jesse who lives across the hall is the closest thing I can think of.
“There’s my neighbor, Jesse,” I say, hesitantly. Is he straight? My radar is pretty spot-on, and despite his stoic demeanor, I catch the way he sometimes looks at me. It’s the same way most heterosexual men do.
Definitely straight.
“Neighbor?” He echoes perking up. “Already Jerome is intrigued. Do tell.”
“He’s…” A smile comes to my lips as I consider Jesse. “He’s cute—no, fine.”
Jerome cranes his neck back to give me a look. “Look at you, already on the down low.”
“Excuse me?” I exclaim, snapping away from my mental portrait of Jesse’s face.
“Don’t ‘what’ me. I see that look in your eyes. What’s goin’ on over there at Norton Place?”
“Nothing,” I retort. “You’re the one who suggested someone straight. As much for yourself as me, I suspect.”
“You’re damn right, and thank you for entertaining that notion. You know I love you and The Girls, but I can only take so many tacos—even those secretly sporting a hot dog in the middle.”
I wrinkle my nose with distaste. “Should I remind you that I don’t think he swings that way?”
“Girl, so long as it swings Jerome is a happy girl!”
I laugh, feeling my mood lift even more.
“You know what? You’re right, screw Francis. Let him come crawling to me. I’m not the one in the wrong here. In the meantime, I’m allowed to flirt a little, if only to fluff my plumage,” I say, patting my short, wavy bob.
“Including with the man right across the hall from you.”
“That is one nut that is going to be tough to crack,” I say.
Jerome turns to me and places both of his hands on my shoulders. He’s half a head taller, especially when I’m not in heels, so he leans down to look me in the eye before speaking.
“Honey, don’t sell yourself short. Any man would be nuts not to crack for a girl like you. You just need to remind ya man of that fact.”
Chapter Six Giuseppe
It’s finally the Monday that Emily is supposed to start at ABC.
I’ve finished showering and putting on one of my better suits and ties before throwing on my heavy coat.
I spent the hour before the sun came up in the gym as usual, going harder than normal on the rowing machine. I’m not sure if it’s Emily herself, or the thrill of winning her back that had me working so hard.
I probably won’t know for sure until I see her today.
Once upon a time, she represented everything I thought I wanted in a partner. Drive. Intelligence. Ambition.
Image.
And the timing is certainly perfect. Now that my career is on track, it’s time for me to seriously start thinking about—
That thought is interrupted by the flash of pink I catch in the hallway just as I open the door to exit my apartment.
“Hello, neighbor,” Honey says, lifting an empty cup. It’s that same large but dainty, floral china thing she always gets her morning coffee in. A flirtatious smile curls her lips. “Looks like we’re both going down at the same time this morning.”
A very involuntary surge
