Page 231 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

Then he turns to the counter,

his back to me,

and sets his things down one at a time.

His phone… his keys…

His shoulders roll under his black bar shirt, sleeves rolled up his forearms, hair screaming grab me.

He clocked out of the Clover twenty minutes ago, expecting to arrive at a dark and peaceful penthouse.

Got boobies instead.

His girl’s boobies.

In a house where other men live.

Yeah,

that Italian mouth’s about to go off in

three,

two…

He snaps his fingers as he turns to face me. “Fuckin’ reminds me.”

He slides his wallet out of his front pocket, pulls out a hundred-dollar bill.

“Crazy night at the bar. Girl tipped a Benjamin, then get this shit—” He shakes his head. “She tried bribin’ me with another if I let her feed me a cherry with her mouth.” He passes me the bill across the counter. “Didn’t entertain it. Easy ain’t my type. But at least now we paid up.” He slaps his palm down on the counter. “I don’t like owin’ anyone.”

I freeze, staring down at the hundred-dollar bill. And the phone number looping across it, small hearts doodled around the digits.

Each one pierces right through me,

my stomach dropping,

and dropping,

and blowing a hole through the floor,

just to keep dropping.

He snaps his wallet shut.

I flinch as he shoves it back into his pocket.

Ben strolls in,

tossing an apple up and catching it.

When he sees me,

he slams to a stop mid-toss,

apple hitting his palm.

His eyes dart from me