Then there’s one from Luke, another friend in Virginia.
–Luke: Who’s the chick?
–Derek: Mom’s excited. Shoulda been more discreet. You look like a feral dog with a piece of meat. Possibly in the early stages of rabies, because your eyes got that crazy gleam. She was your date, right? Not the other guy’s? Just checking…
Thanks for the imagery, bro. And when did you start thinking I steal other men’s women?
–Mom: I thought you were going to get back together with Shelly. What’s going on? Is this blonde girl the one? Is she making you rethink your life choices over the last two years?
–Dane: Sophia wants to know everything. And you owe us.
There are more, but all in pretty much the same vein. What the hell is going on? Since Matt was the first one to text me, I reply to him.
–Me: What woman are you talking about?
A few moments later Matt sends me a picture, and I tap on it to blow it up. Oh shit. It’s a shot of me and Fordham with Erin stuck in the middle. Fucking paparazzi. They’re everywhere in this city. Thankfully, the shot is from her back, with her face hidden. I would’ve felt awful if the asshole got her from a recognizable angle. The tabloids never write anything truthful, much less flattering.
But the picture is very unfortunate nonetheless. He snapped the shot just as Fordham and I both had a hand locked on one of her wrists. It looks like we’re playing tug of war. And it’s very obvious who we both are.
–Matt: That poor woman. Like a fish bone between two starving cats.
I scowl. I want to argue, but I can’t think of anything clever to say. Besides, Matt is a lawyer, a master of twisting innocent words. Anything half-assed won’t work.
Derek said I looked like a dog with rabies. Did I seem that crazed to Erin?
Is that why she was so stiff outside her apartment…?
My head hurts. Can I go back to yesterday and do it over? I should’ve at least kicked Warren Fordham in the shin if I’m going to appear deranged anyway.
–Matt: Thank God you guys weren’t frothing at the mouth. That’s from Jan.
I can’t argue. Fordham and I both look ridiculous. But he’s worse because he’s a dick and a politician.
–Me: We don’t look that bad. At least I don’t.
–Matt: So who is she?
–Me: My assistant. My intended date told me that she was a lesbian yesterday evening, so I had to get a substitute.
–Matt: Is that a first for you, turning a perfectly nice hetero woman into a lesbian?
I roll my eyes. I should’ve known he’d say something like this.
–Matt: Or do you make a habit of causing women to join the other team?
–Me: Clearly, I’ve ruined her for other men. Don’t know if it’s the first time.
–Matt: Oh, bra-VO. Slow claps all around.
–Me: Fuck you.
–Matt: Jan wants to know why she’s being yanked around by the two of you. Isn’t the other guy Warren Fordham?
–Me: Yes. He’s an Asshole.
Hey, look at that. Even autocorrect knows “asshole” should be capitalized if you’re talking about Fordham.
I continue typing: I’m gonna make sure he loses his next election. And also when you talk to my mom and everyone else, tell them not to get too excited. There’s nothing between us. No grandbaby coming anytime soon from my side.