“Lauro.” I’m admonishing him, but he’s clearly already admonishing himself. “She doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who could easily…deal with you sleeping around.”
“Well, she’s not.”
“Did you cheat?”
“No. We weren’t exclusive. But after about a month, she asked me why we had to do it my way. Why we couldn’t do it her way. And I…there wasn’t really an answer besides that I didn’twantto. And…that was enough of an answer for her. She stopped picking up my calls.”
“And you got your heart broken.”
“I don’t know aboutbroken.” But then he folds a little. “But she’s special. And I miss her. And it bugs me that I fucked it up for both of us.”
“Well, if you want her back so bad, then why the hell have you been flirting with me so much? And flirting with everybody?” I can immediately recall at least five different instances of Lauro tying smocks around Shan’s neck, giving Stacia a back hug, opening his mouth for a bite of Penny’s ice cream off Penny’s spoon.
“I don’tknow.Was I just supposed to stand next to her with tears in my eyes? I didn’t want to look like aloser.”
“It doesn’t make you a loser to come to an art class and take it seriously! You didn’t need to try to sleep with anyone who breathes!”
“I didn’t sleep with anyone! I…” He clears his throat, glances around, and lowers his voice. “I haven’t been sleeping with anyone. Well, besides falling asleep with Raff while we were on shrooms.”
“So.” I do the math. “You’ve been signing up for the art classes you know she’ll be in. You come to class wearing mesh. You flirt in order to show off your desirability. You make these effortless sexy little drawings…This entire time…have you beenpeacockingfor Em?”
“I mean.” He raises his hands and lets them flop to his sides, likeSo what?
“It’s just…it’s so obviously the wrong strategy for her.”
I’m reevaluating everything I thought I knew about Lauro. I love this. I thought he was a smooth operator. I thought he knew what the hell he wanted and how the hell to get it. Turns out he’s a bozo like the rest of us. Delightful.
“Well, I’m not, you know, Will Smith inHitch,okay? I don’t actually have a ton of tools in the toolbox!” He’s looking flustered and embarrassed. The matching linen shorts and button-down (mauve, by the way) that he’s chosen to wear now seem terribly contrived. I imagine a pile of tried-on and discarded outfits on his bed. It’s Friday for him. Em day. He’d better make it count.
I suddenly realize that I think Lauro is going to be my friend for a really long time. We have a solid chemistry. He cares about me and I care about him.
“If this is the only tool in your toolbox…Okay, so, you mean that peacocking is the only way you’ve ever made a move on someone before? And it’s just always…worked?” My skepticism is radioactive and it obviously inflames him.
“When you’re beautiful, you’re allowed to be inept!” he practically shouts.
And it makes me roar with laughter because he’s actuallynotjoking. “Oh, Lauro, old age is gonna hit you like a ton of bricks, God willing.”
“No.” He’s defiant. “No, I’m a Clooney.”
“Not even Clooney is a Clooney. I’m sure there’s a saggy butt and penile shrinkage under those tailored pants.”
He’s been stabbed through the heart. “Don’t talk about Clooney that way!”
“Lauro. Em doesn’t give a shit about people who look cool. She literally only cares about one thing.”
He’s caving in on himself. “I know.”
“Sincerity.”
“I know.”
“So quit being such a politician, you slut.”
This finally cracks him back into Lauro-ness. His tiger smile comes back and he slings an arm around my shoulder, bringing our temples together. “Fine, fine.”
He’s walking us to the checkout.
“How’d you two get together in the first place?” I ask, out of sheer nosiness.
