Truly: He believes falling in love distracted him, and I’m not going to sit there and try to convince him otherwise. I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself and say no you idiot, that makes no sense. Instead, I said it sounded . . . brilliant
Charlotte: Let me make sure I have this right. Mister Modern Gentleman somehow finessed a breakup to make it seem mutual?
Truly: I suppose he did. Clever guy. But what was I going to do? It was clear he wasn’t ready. So I went along with it and said I agreed, and that’s what we told Malone too.
Charlotte: So you two made it seem like you preemptively broke up so you wouldn’t lose your focus even though your brother is and was totally fine with you two being the couple we all had bets you’d become?
Truly: And you all lost, I guess. Turns out we’re not a couple at all.
Charlotte: I’m sorry, sweetie.
Truly: It’ll be fine. Men, right?
Charlotte: I swear. They don’t always see what’s in front of them. And it sounds like he’s spiraling. His words. I’ve read his columns on it. He actually has given really good advice to men when they spiral, and yet, the ding dong is spiraling. He’s feeding this storm inside him.
Truly: Sounds like he might be, but it doesn’t matter now. Maybe it’s for the best. I can use this time to recalibrate. Figure out if I want to find a new investor, or something else.
Charlotte: So glad you’re diving right back into work and more work and hey, let’s have another serving of work.
Truly: What should I be doing? I have responsibilities to Gin Joint. I have employees to take care of. And I need to zero in on my expansion plans.
Charlotte: You already run an incredibly successful establishment. Hell, we both run incredibly successful bars. We are kick-ass businesswomen in New York City. So what if you don’t expand? You have a great place in front of you.
Truly: But I lined up my people. I had employees in place. I have a gal who was going to help run the new pub.
Charlotte: Promote her to manager at Gin Joint. Maybe you could work less then.
Truly: I don’t work that much!
Charlotte: How do you say that with a straight face? It’s a Saturday afternoon and you’re at work. Am I right?
Truly: Saturday is my busiest time. It’s normal to work on a Saturday.
Charlotte: Yes. But you also worked Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. All day. I bet you work Saturday night too.
Truly: Which reminds me. I still have to go to the stupid wedding with him tonight.
Charlotte: Good thing you’re at work then. You definitely need a shot.
47
Sometimes you need comic relief.
I find it at the gym that afternoon.
Josh is cycling on a stationary bike like he’s trying to win the Tour de France. What kills me is how he looks.
I walk straight over to his bike and wave a hand in front of his face, since he’s staring at ESPN like he wants to rip off the screen with his bare teeth. I glance over at the television captions—something or other about an NFL rookie who signed with Dallas.
Let me guess—not Josh’s client.
But I don’t need to stir the grizzly bear.
Instead, I point to the Bluetooth device dangling from his ear.
He looks to me. “What? What’s going on?”
“You really don’t know?”
He looks at me, still cycling, still panting, still not giving a shit that he looks like a total idiot.
“You have your earring on. Your Bluetooth, dickhead.”
He reaches up and laughs self-deprecatingly as he tucks the device in his shorts pocket. “Oh. Guess I forgot to take it off.”
“You realize you look like a complete twat like that?”
“Hey, I don’t look like a twat. I look like a dipshit.”
“No, you look like a total tool. That better?”
He offers me a fist. “Knock me, brother. You’re getting the lingo down properly now.”
“You’re so American.”
“You’re so British.”
“All right, so you’ve taken that dumb Bluetooth off,” I say as I hop on the bike next to him and begin a warm-up cycle.
