Page 73 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

I forgot what it felt like, to desire a woman like this.

As if she can feel me thinking about her she turns and looks at me and smiles.

I bask in it like a schoolboy. I remind myself that it could just be that she’s grateful for the use of the space. Thankful. For a second though, I have the illusion that it’s for me.

It was my own private struggle to light that stage production of “Alejandro,” to follow the lighting design set forth by the Beau Cirque powers that be. I knew how to run tech across the ceiling and along the apron, how to get the angles. I knew how to follow the scheme to make the lighting braid in with the music, but in truth, I really only wanted to light Francine. She wasn’t the star, but she was the best thing up there, no question and I lit her beautifully. She was all I’d see. She’d dance her heart out, and I’d tweak the lights. A one-sided collaboration.

Kelsey comes and stands by my side. “We could power half the air conditioners in Manhattan with that energy, huh?” she says.

The kids. She’s talking about the kids. “Quite a handful,” I say.

“Yup.” I can feel Kelsey watching me, wanting to engage me, but I can’t quite tear my gaze from Francine out there. Even when she has to stop the class and scold the misbehaving rebel of the group, she does it with love. I never saw this side of Francine. There’s so much I don’t know about her.

She claps and asks them to circle up. She’s whispering excitedly, hands on her hips. I’d give anything to know what she’s saying.

“Really, dude,” Kelsey says after a spell of silence. “What are you doing?”

“I never knew how into working with kids she is,” I say. It’s not an answer. I don’t owe anybody answers. I don’t need to explain myself—not to her, not to anybody. It’s one of the beauties of being me.

“This is her thing for sure,” Kelsey says. “This age, especially.”

We watch Francine hassle the kids for being lazy. Teasing, but always with kindness. “She has such a good way with them.”

“This whole wife thing, though,” she says. “What’s up with it?”

“It works for me, that’s what’s up with it.”

“Why, though? Because if you’re out to hurt her, to use her in some way—”

“Nope,” I say.

“What’s the endgame?” she asks.

“I have this wife nobody sees. May as well let people get a look at her and—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve clarified; not the bullshit explanation, please,” she says. “The real one. Why make her play your wife? It’s weird as fuck, dude.”

I turn to her. “I wanted to.”

“That’s not a very complete reason.”

“She came for a divorce and my gut said no,” I tell her. “I always go with my gut.”

Kelsey snorts. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Your gut? You mean the one that lives below your belt? And sometimes thinks for you? Because I’m gonna tell you, I think you’re angling to get into her pants.”

I give her a stern look, though really I’m impressed by her directness, and surprised that Francine didn’t say anything about what happened between us, just because I know she and Kelsey are extremely close.

I like that she kept it private. Something just for us. Way back when, she didn’t seem to care about anybody else’s feelings but her own. But that hasn’t seemed true these past two weeks. Do I need to update my perception of her?

I changed, after all. I left the past behind.

Kelsey’s watching me, wanting an answer.

“I follow my instincts,” I tell her. “They know more than the brain.”

“Hmmm,” Kelsey says. “I’m going to remember that the next time I need a bullshit reason for something. It’s very good.”

“I’m not playing you,” I say. “Once I decide something, I do it.”

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