Page 28 of The Plus Ones
But he needed to know who he’s dealing with.
If you’ve got a penis, do not try to convince Foxy Roxy that you aren’t having a party in your pants, because I don’t even have to look at your pants to know what’s going on down there. I know semi-face when I see it. Keaton Bridges has had it ever since his car showed up at my place.
I must say, though, he looks very attractive with his jaw clenched. And he really has been very polite and restrained so far. Now that we’re at the airport, I have removed my down jacket again, and he helped me to roll it up and shove it into the little pouch it came with so I could pack it into my suitcase. I thanked him by not commenting on how weird it was that he was inhaling so deeply while in my personal space.
We’re heading for the VIP lounge, and he’s had this goofy lopsided grin on his face ever since we checked in. That stupid dimple.
“What?”
“Your name is Roxanne? Roxanne Carter? I saw it on your luggage tag.”
“Is that amusing to you? Roxy is short for Roxanne.”
“I didn’t realize. I’ve only ever heard you called Roxy.”
“You thought my parents took one look at me when I was born and said, ‘This baby looks like a porn star. Let’s call her Roxy!’”
“So you gave yourself a porn star name?”
“People started calling me Foxy Roxy in college. I mean, half the people did. The other half called me Franzia.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Why?”
“Because I’m classy as a box of fridge wine.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t see that. I don’t like that for you. Did Aimee call you that?”
“No. She’s the one who started calling me Foxy Roxy.”
“Good. You’re definitely not a Franzia.” He seems genuinely upset by this. It’s kinda cute.
“You got a better nickname for me?”
“Not yet. I will.”
Before I have the chance to assure him that he can’t possibly know me well enough to give me a nickname, a middle-aged man calls out Keaton’s name as he passes by in the concourse. Keaton does a double-take and stops to talk to him, so I wait a few feet away.
“Tom? Hey.”
“Hey, good to see you!”
Keaton extends his hand to shake Tom’s, but Tom gives him a one-armed hug.
“Good to see you, Keaton. Wow, long time.”
“Yeah, yeah yeah. Hi.”
“Where you headed?”
“I’m just meeting up with some friends in Antigua for a few days. You?”
“Niiiice. I’m just back from Miami. Conference.”
“Great. Sounds fun.”
“Oh boy. A little too much fun, if you must know.”
Keaton emits the fakest and most awkward laugh I hope to ever hear, and after these two men stare at each other while smiling for another ten awful seconds, Tom finally looks over at me and says, “Hi. I’m Tom.”
