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nose. "Okay. It kind of
seems
like you really do. Am I reading that right?"
    An exasperated sigh escaped me before I could grab it.
    "Hey," she breathed, her voice suddenly warm and gentle. "I'm just kidding."
    "I know. I know. Sorry."
    "It's okay," she said, rubbing my arm.
    I had to raise an eyebrow. This was
really
weird. "Are you okay?" I joked, pressing a hand to her forehead. She didn't smack it away. She didn't roll her eyes. She...smiled. She smiled an almost warm, almost gentle smile. "Seriously. Are you still drunk?"
    "Nope. I just want to know what this is all about," she replied.
    Taking another healthy swig, I set the glass down on the table beside the couch.
    "You know, I don't really know myself. I just..." I scanned backwards, trying to find the source of all this madness. Ah, yes.
    That kid has amazing hands.
    "You remember that night you came home really pissed off?" I asked.
    She tilted her head. "You mean yesterday?"
    "No."
    "The day before?"
    "No."
    She smiled and shook her head and shook her hands and whisky splashed onto my pants.
    "Fuck!" she squealed, rubbing at them with her palm, soaking them. "Oh. Fuck. I should have..."
    I started to laugh. I put a hand on hers, stopping her from getting up. "Don't worry about it. The night you came home with a headache."
    "Oooooohhh,
that
night!" she said, nodding to let me know she understood.
    "Yeah. That night. So, we had some fun sex that night,"
    "We always do!" she chimed in with a wink.
    "Yes. We always do. So that night, before you fell asleep, you said something."
    "I did?"
    "You did." I gazed into her eyes, searching for a glimmer of recognition there. Nothing.
    "What was it?"
    I steeled my nerves to spell it out. "You said Will had the most amazing hands."
    She furrowed her brow, scanning back through time the same way I had. Her face softened at the memory. "I did," she whispered.
    "You did."
    "That's what did this?"
    "I don't know, I just kind of got to thinking about it and it...made me...I don't know. God, I don't know what it made me."
    "Jealous?" she offered.
    "Jealous, yeah. But in a really weird sort of..." I trailed off. I wasn't great with stuff like this.
    "...a weird sort of hot way?"
    There was not a shred of laughter or judgment or shame in the way she said it. Like she just really wanted to know.
    "Exactly. In a really weird sort of hot way."
    "So...you've been thinking about it a lot?" she asked.
    "I mean...that night with the guys...the farm guys. You remember what happened?"
    "Yes I do," she purred, scratching at my shirt.
    "And then...there was this," I gestured towards the last event.
    She thought, for what seemed like a long time. I watched her eyes. "So do you actually want to do it?"
    "Do it?"
    "I mean, do you actually want to see me with another man?"
    I sighed. Then I thought about it seriously, too. Everything seemed different after an orgasm than just before. "I don't know."
    She nodded. "Okay. Just thought I'd ask."
    This was a mysterious woman. This did not seem like the Angie that I knew. "Okay."
    "Okay," she said with some finality. "I have to go to bed."
    "Okay."
    She got up. The empty glass she'd put into her lap rolled onto the carpeted floor, leaving a tiny trickle of whisky in its wake.
    "Fuck!" she shrieked in exaggerated exasperation.
    "Don't worry about it."
    She turned, smiled sheepishly, then sighed.
    "Charlie, you're the fucking best."
    "I love you too," I answered as she leaned in for a kiss.
    I watched her ass as it swayed up the stairs. Then I sat there, wondering if I'd done things right.

Chapter 9

    She'd forgotten, the night before, that it was Sunday. On Monday the restaurant was closed. It was a good thing because even though we owned two cars, we currently had none. After a slow breakfast, we packed into a cab and headed to the restaurant.
    "Hey, let's go inside, I want to check receipts from last night."
    "Okay," I said, figuring I could poke around in the computer and make sure nobody had cooked any