“No?”
“You were so drunk last night.” Carolina peels off the other cup while I wince. “Not drunk enough to convince you to go hunt down Fitz and fuck him in the coatroom.”
“I can’t have sex with a guy with plastic adhered to my boob.”
“You can, and you should have.”
“But Kathy—” I pull on my T-shirt.
“He was looking at you, not her.”
“Because he didn’t even see her,” I argue.
“Knock knock! Room service!” my dad hollers from outside my bedroom door.
“Dad, no—”
The door bursts open. There’s my dad with trays of food. “I made spinach omelet bites!”
“Winifred, are you talking to your father here without a bra?” Mom pokes her head in.
“Mom, it’s my house.”
“What will your father think?”
“Her father thinks he made a bang-up daughter and any man out there will be lucky to have her. Look, Winnie.” He holds up the newspaper. “This article—there’s a matchmaking service parents can do for their kids. Girls get in free. Guess with all the tech companies, there’s a mismatch between boys and girls.” He bustles around happily, laying out breakfast on the coffee table. “I’m signing you up.”
“No thanks, Dad.”
“No, sign her up. I need a great-granddaughter. Soon. My tits are already dragging in the grave,” Gran begs.
“Mrs. Miller’s son is just divorced.” My mom throws open the curtains.
“Who?” I squint.
“Honestly, Winnie, you have to get to know your neighbors. She gave us extra apples. I made turnovers.”
Fidget sniffs from the bed.
“I thought you all were going to come home with a man. I don’t see any men in here,” Gran demands. “Where’s Kathy’s new rich boyfriend?”
“There were like five girls for every guy at that party,” Carolina complains as we tuck into the breakfast. “They wouldn’t even look at her. It was a scam.”
I try not to think about the stalker in here, watching me.
“Did you make eggs benny?” Kathy flops back down on the bed.
“We need Winnie to make her famous hollandaise for that.” Dad winks at me. “You really should put that sauce on your dating resume, Winn. Guys will line up.”
“You need to add cooking lessons to Kathy’s—”
“Sex and food–that’s how you get a man. Go old-school.”
“She doesn’t just need a man—he has to be rich.” I scoop sausage crumbles onto my egg bite. “Don’t worry, Kath. I have cascading backup plans. We’ll find your perfect man.”
“Or you could just get married and we can all live with you, Winnie,” she whines. “You have a billionaire after you.”
“It was the dress. I told you.” Gran pokes me in my sore nipple. “Straight men like tits and ass. It ain’t that complicated—you girls and your dating books and Instagram gurus. Give him a little bit of this and a little of that.” She squeezes my boobs because no one in my family has boundaries, apparently. “You lead him around by the penis.”
