"Hey, how you doing?"
I smiled. "I'm a little itchy, actually." I scratched the back of my neck. "A bit sweaty, too. I have a terrible headache. And cramps." I grimaced and set my hand on my tummy. "How are you?"
He blinked at me a few times and then looked over at Miranda. "I'd be a lot better if I was leaving with her. You're her friend, right? What's her 411?"
Brady leaned between us. "Isn't she back together with Gino?"
I looked backed at him, smiled and nodded. "Impressive," I mouthed.
Brady scanned the crowd. "I swear I saw him tonight. Hard to miss a two-hundred-fifty-pound guy."
I tapped my finger against my nose. "Are you sure he's out of jail already?"
"Pretty sure."
I shook my head. "It's amazing how low bail is for breaking a guy's arm-just for pinching his girlfriend's ass."
The guy slowly backed away.
"Give it a shot. I'm not sure if they're back together or not," I said.
His Adam's apple bounced in his throat. "Thanks. I'm all set."
I turned around and high-fived Brady. "Nice work."
"Thank you, thank you. I only hope she provides you the same courtesy when losers come looking for you."
That earned him a steely gaze. "You think I can only attract"
"losers?'
He groaned and looked up at the ceiling and all those bras. "You know what I mean. A guy with a lame line, like the yahoos here."
Frowning, I rolled my eyes. "It's never really been a problem."
"Oh, only the A-plus specimens show up for you?"
I looked away. "Knock it off."
"What?" He reached for my arm and I pulled it away.
"Come on, I don't look like Miranda." I gestured to her waving her hands over her head in the middle of a group of hot Latino men. Only a girl as confident as her could do that in a strapless dress. "I don't exactly have guys banging down the door." Or knocking at all. It had been a while.
Another guy interrupted us. "Hey, you friends with the hot chick?"
"I pointed at Brady. "That's her boyfriend. He can tell you all about her."
The guy held up his hands and stepped back. "Sorry, dude."
"No problem. She's a hot mess, anyway. You don't want any of that action."
He was gone before Brady could finish.
I flicked a cherry stem at him. "Stop it. Anybody would want her."
"Oh, my God." He dropped his head back, frustrated. "You seriously believe that's all guys are interested in? Looks?"
I turned up my hands like, yeah duh.
He let out a long sigh. "Come on, Jane. We're not all Neanderthals"
"Yes, you are. I think your bra collection says it all." I jerked my chin towards the lingerie.
"I've never actually collected one myself. See? Not one of the bad guys."
I pressed my eyes closed before launching into my theory on men. "I just mean its hardwired into your brain, or chemistry, or whatever, to look for the most attractive female mate. Haven't you ever read those studies about men preferring a certain hip-to-waist ratio, which happens to be the most fertile ratio? Then there's the clear skin and shiny hair that suggest good, healthy genes. You can't help it. It's in your nature to want the most attractive mate who will best allow you to spread your seed." I took a long drink. "And for that reason, no man would ever pick me over Miranda. She is reproductive perfection." A little drama always helped sell it, so I spread my arms wide. "It's not your fault."
