Page 37 of Infidelity Rules

WTF? WTF? Nooooooo. I couldn’t be more stunned if Emma whipped down her pants, bent over and mooned us all right then and there at the bar.

I can see Julian out of the corner of my eye, a smile playing at his lips. I know he’s roaring with laughter on the inside.

“Will you excuse me for just one minute?” I ask, smiling sweetly. I make good use of my long legs and get to the ladies’ room in just a few strides. I’m about to have a meltdown.

The world has gone crazy. Berserk. Looney tunes.

I squeeze my eyes shut and take a few deep, yoga-like breaths.

I have no business teaching these lessons. How did I get into this?

I just want my wild rumpus.

I just want Marcus.

I open my eyes and collect myself. I can’t say no. Not if I want to keep Dezi in my life. And not if I want to keep the peace with Chef.

I suppose it’s not a high price to pay.

And it may just buy me more time to figure out Marcus.

.....

“Okay Emma,” I say, returning to the bar. “I’ll do it.”

Emma smiles. “Thank you. I know you don’t have to do this, but I was hoping. It seems to be working so well for Cindy and Zack.”

Except for the double text , I think. But whatever.

Emma goes on to describe how Cindy was just thrilled with their recent date night. And that Zack brought home flowers and her favorite bath bombs from Lush and that he’s more attentive than ever, blah, blah, blah. I look over at Elliot and he just shrugs.

“It’s like he’s trying to win her over all over again,” Emma says, starting to get animated and way too excited.

I need to put the kibosh on this right quick.

“I can’t make any promises, you know that, right?” I ask. “And honestly, I think Cindy and Zack are working because of Cindy and Zack. Not because of me.”

“But you’ll still do it?” Emma asks.

“Yes. I just want to set expectations. I’m not a magician or a witch.”

Emma nods. “I understand.”

“We are talking about your husband, Greg, yes?” I ask, mentally recalling that jerk-face who was with Emma on “Cake Night.” I didn’t interact with him too much, but I do remember him ogling Dezi’s cleavage.

And staring at my butt (per Marcus). And rolling his eyes whenever Emma spoke.

In fact, I even remember him flinging a forkful of potato at Emma like a bored child, willing her to call him out on it.

She just simply brushed the food off her chest and gave him a wan smile.

What a turd. And yet, she still wants him.

“Yes, Greg,” says Emma, interrupting my thoughts. “We have two young daughters.”

Ah yes, the little girls , I think. It’s as if she read my mind. I suppose she has good reason to want to keep him around. But he’s no Zack, who, in my opinion, really is a decent guy at heart. He just lost his way.

But Greg? I can’t get his smarmy face out of my head.

And then there are all those stories Dezi told me about his philandering ways — multiple one-night stands, sneaking home at dawn, flirting with her friends, gawking at other women in Emma’s presence.

And once, apparently, he felt up Emma’s favorite yoga teacher.

Emma was so embarrassed she never returned to class.

GAH! This is so going to be a waste of Emma’s time. Not to mention mine.

Emma drains her drink, the “Love, Violet,” and looks at me. “When can we start?” She stands up to leave.

“How about now?” I ask suddenly, looking from Emma to Elliot. “This first one is a quickie.”

“Okay,” says Emma, looking at Elliot for confirmation. He just nods and shrugs and sits back down.

I can see Julian shuffle a little closer, his back still to us. I can’t see his expression, but I can imagine his eyebrows rocketing skyward.

I take a sip of my “Q” cocktail and beckon Emma to sit.

“Emma. There are nice guys out there who veer off the path. They just need a little coaxing to get back on track. A little sweetness, if you will. Like Zack.”

Emma nods.

“And then there are jackasses, pure and simple. Greg is the Titanic of asses. Herculean. He is, if you will, a super-duper ass.”

I wait a beat to let this sink in.

“And, sometimes,” I continue, “an ass is just an ass.”

Emma looks at me strangely. “What are you saying?”

I can see Julian’s shoulders shaking. And Elliot looks amused.

“Emma. You don’t need me. You need a good lawyer.”

.....

Julian and I watch as Elliot escorts his stunned speechless sister out of the restaurant. He is steering her by the shoulders when he turns to give me a quick nod. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “I couldn’t agree more.”

I smile and nod. “Happy I could help.”

As they walk out the door, Elliot turns one last time to look at me. He points to the cheese cart. “I’ll set you up. No sense wasting good business,” he says as the door swings closed behind them.

“Oh, that is very, very good news,” I say to Julian as I sigh and collapse onto a barstool.

“Which part? The cheese or the fact that you just wrangled yourself out of having to give love lessons?”

“Both. Definitely both.”

Julian hands me a glass of sparkling water with lime and a plate of creamy green olives. He always seems to know exactly what I need.

“I do love it when you have visitors,” Julian says with a grin. “I always learn so much.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I pop an olive into my mouth. “If only I could say the same about you.”

I sip my water as Julian cleans up the bar.

“It sounds as if you are giving somebody lessons?” asks Julian. “Would this be that other woman who came storming into the bar a few months ago?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “I was hoping you didn’t overhear that.”

“Oh Q.” He smiles. “I hear everything.”

I shake my head. “It’s ridiculous. The whole thing is nuts.”

“If I recall, I thought it was a pretty good idea,” he says. “Still do.”

“And Emma?” I ask. “What about her?”

“Seems to me you were spot on with that one.” He grins. “Sounds as if her husband, and if I may quote you here Q, is a ‘super-duper ass.’”