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“I can’t afford this,” I said. “I lost my job on Monday. I should have said before you ordered. I’m sorry.”
Jade stopped mid-strap. She looked at me for a long time.
Then she sat down next to me on the couch, still topless, and sighed through her nose.
“You’re serious.”
“Deadly.”
“God.” She took the folder off my lap and looked at the total herself, and winced. “Okay. Look. I get commission on that. I can’t just tear it up.” She chewed her lip. “But I can tell them the bottle was corked and we sent it back. Happens all the time. You pay for one glass.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re the first man in seven years who’s told me the truth in this room.” She laughed, a little embarrassed, and pulled her top on. “Also because you didn’t touch me once, even when you wanted to. I could tell you wanted to.”
“I really wanted to.”
“I know. I was sitting on it.”
She grabbed a cocktail napkin and an eyeliner pencil off the table, scribbled on the napkin and folded it into my shirt pocket.
“That’s my actual number. My name’s Priya. I’m twenty-nine, I’m off on Tuesdays, and I’m not dancing for you next time. You’re buying me dinner. A cheap one.”
She kissed me. Just once, soft, on the mouth.
Then the buzzer went, and she was gone.