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Twyla:So, you’ve already sealed the deal, huh? Good job, Pissarro! I wasn’t sure you had it in you. I’m assuming it was lovely for you both?
Anthony:That’s private. Between the two of us.
Twyla:Oh wow, you ARE falling hard, aren’t you? Have you stopped to think this might just be lust at first sight? Not true love? Maybe you should enjoy the week and see how things go. By day five, you might have fucked this out of your system, and the problem will have solved itself.
Anthony:That’s not going to happen. I know myself, Twyla. I know this is fast, but it’s real. I thought love at first sight was bullshit, too. My aunt and uncle swear they were in love halfway through their first trip to Coney Island when they were teenagers, but I never believed them. I figured they were seeing the past through rose-colored glasses. That years of being happily married had altered their perspective. But now…
Twyla:Now you’re having feelings for a girl you barely know.
Anthony:But I feel like I do know her. I feel like I’ve known her for a long time, and like I’ve been waiting for a woman like her for even longer. She’s just…special. Beautiful and kind and funny and someone I already admire so much. And I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.
Twyla:Aw, well shit. Now I’m getting choked up. You just warmed my jaded heart. For real. I hate that!
Anthony:I’m sorry.
Twyla:No, I’m sorry. I feel terrible about putting you in this position. Both of you. Let me see what solutions I can come up with. I’ll chew on it and get back to you as soon as I can.
But in the meantime, just try to enjoy yourself, okay? You deserve some fun in your life and so does she. You don’t save up the kind of cash this woman has saved working at a rental management company without busting your ass and cutting back on everything but the bare necessities.
She sacrificed for this experience and she deserves a beautiful one, whether it ends with the two of you giving a relationship a try or not. So, don’t ruin it by running away tonight, okay? Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Just hang tight, have an amazing time, and I will do my best to come up with a seamless transition strategy by New Year’s Eve.
You’re coming to the party at the club, right?
I told Maya I included a ticket for both of you with her fee.
Anthony:We haven’t discussed it.
Twyla:Discuss it. And make plans to be here. That way I can help massage the situation in person, and you’ll both be guaranteed a fabulous New Year’s experience! Not to brag, but my parties are pretty epic.
Anthony:No offense, but I don’t like the idea of sharing Maya like that. I like to keep my sex life behind closed doors.
Twyla:Then you guys can stay upstairs, Mr. Prude. Or book a private room. People make sacrifices to the dark lord for these tickets, Anthony, and you’re getting one for free. Don’t look a fairy godmother gift horse in the mouth. And don’t make it harder for me to help you solve this problem.
Anthony:Fine. I’ll discuss it with her.
Twyla:Good. Now, go have fun. I’ll reach out soon, but right now I have to tell the king of some country I’ve never heard of that he can’t bring armed guards into my establishment tomorrow night. No guns allowed. Not even for royalty.
Anthony:Good luck. And thanks. I appreciate the help, even if you are the one who got me into this mess in the first place.
Twyla:I also apparently introduced you to the love of your life, so…I’m still the best. Later, friend!
The love of my life…
I don’t know if that’s true, but I can’t deny that I can’t wait to get back downstairs. Even ten minutes away from Maya feels like an intolerable depravation.
The thought of never seeing her again because she’s decided to hate me for being a dirty, rotten liar is deeply disturbing.
I sink onto the bed, running a hand through my hair. Through the tinted glass windows, I see snow starting to fall again. We haven’t gotten this much snow in December in years. The city has grown so warm over the past decade that there have been times when the parks couldn’t keep the outdoor ice rinks frozen.
But all of a sudden, it’s like climate change decided to take a year off and give us all that white holiday season we remember from when we were kids.
The city looks magical, the way it did last night when everything still seemed possible.
The sound of Maya’s laughter drifts up the stairs—she must be playing with Pudge. It’s a sweet sound, genuine, just like everything else about her. Maya is just Maya, boldly, bravely herself in a way so few people are. In a way I appreciate so fucking much. I don’t want to play any part in teaching this kind, genuine woman that it isn’t safe to be open and trusting.
She deserves the truth from me and one hell of an apology.
But she also deserves that stress-free, sexy good time she paid for.