Page 87 of Personal Foul

“You sound like my mother.”

“She’s probably right. That’s the first tip. Listen to the women in your life. Even if you don’t agree.”

“I’m going to regret asking you for help, aren’t I?”

“Maybe. Let’s go.” He grabs his keys and heads out.

* * *

We getinto the art gallery where there’s some sort of photography exhibit opening tonight. I follow Ben’s lead as he walks around. He looks nervous in a way I’ve never seen him before and he scans the crowd occasionally like he’s looking for the mystery woman.

“This seems like a lot of work for a friend of your sister’s. You love your sister that much or this girl mean something to you too?”

He looks at me, his eyes searching me for a minute like he’s trying to decide if he should answer before he does.

“Both.”

“Did you fuck her? Date her?” I’m intrigued. Ben occasionally tried someone more steady like he did with Chelsea on the couple’s trip we took, but inevitably it ended when she wanted more and he didn’t.

“Neither.”

“Neither?” I ask, a little incredulous.

He stops abruptly in his tracks, and I follow his line of sight to a corner where two women stand. Both tall, one with short black and red hair and lots of tattoos, the other with long brunette hair, splashed with plum-colored highlights and pale skin. They’re both beautiful in an offbeat way. Not that either of them compared to Wren. Then again, no one does.

“Which one?” I know Ben normally goes for blondes but he also loves his heavy metal and punk music, and I could definitely see him with a chick with tattoos and colored hair.

He looks at me warily.

“I’m not gonna do anything. I mean, I think we should go talk to them. See if she recognizes you, but I’m not going to tell her. Don’t worry.”

“The brunette…” His eyes drift over her.

“She the one that got away?”

“She’s the one that doesn’t know I exist.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m her best friend’s little brother and she’s the type that always has a boyfriend.”

“Hmm. That does put you at a disadvantage. I thought you said she had a rough week, though, she seems happy enough.”

“She and her fiancé split up. For good this time if my sister’s right.”

“So what are you waiting for? Go be the rebound.”

“She’s not the rebound type, and she’s out of my league anyway.”

“Oh fuck that. Everyone is the rebound type if the person is right. Let’s go. We’re at least gonna talk to her.” I start walking in their direction.

“No. East! Fucking fuck. Donottell her who I am.” He whisper shouts at me as he hurries to catch up.

“I won’t. But I’m not being a creepy fucking weirdo about it standing back here in the shadows with you either. Just talk to her. You won’t know until you do.”

I shake my head and cross the short distance between us.

“Hi.” I look down at the tattooed woman’s docent tag. “Joss is it?”