Page 9 of Guys Can't Write Romance
“Right,” said Chloe. “Because one peddles shady stocks, and the other tells me I’ve overdrawn my account. Got it.”
There was no love lost between Chloe and Daisy’s stuffy boyfriend, Ethan Sterling. Ava had introduced Daisy to him three years earlier, shortly after Daisy’s father died. Ethan was a new analyst at an investment banking firm Ava’s law firm represented, and Ava convinced Daisy to meet him for drinks. Daisy brought Chloe along for comfort, which, to no one’s surprise, made the evening interesting. Chloe came away thinking the guy had the personality of a wet towel and was smug and condescending on top of it. Daisy tended to agree. But then came the flowers.
Daisy arrived at school to find a nice bouquet of condolence flowers, which supposedly came from Ethan. Chloe had no doubt that Ava had sent them, but Daisy gave Ethan another chance anyway; and over time, they settled into a comfortable familiarity. Ethan brought stability and security to Daisy during a tumultuous time in her life, and somewhere along the way, that became enough for her.
But Chloe, with the persistent stubbornness of a blue-haired mule, never gave up trying to knock some sense into her roommate.
“It better be him,” Daisy said, rising from the couch and smoothing her dress as she walked to the door. Just before opening it, she shot Chloe a look. “Behave yourself.”
Chloe grinned. “Always.”
Daisy opened the door, and in the hallway outside stood Ethan Sterling, a tall, lanky guy whose suit probably cost more than Daisy’s entire wardrobe.
“Hello, Daisy,” Ethan said, bending stiffly to kiss Daisy on the cheek. “Are you ready to go? Our reservations for six.”
On the couch, Chloe feigned a yawn and waved. “What’s up, banker boy?”
“Ethan, if you don’t mind,” he corrected Chloe, then turned to Ava. “Hello, Ava.”
“Hi, Ethan,” Ava said. “You look nice tonight.”
“As do you.”
“I have paint splatters on my apron from work,” said Chloe. “If I put it on, can I look nice like you guys?”
Behind Ethan, Daisy shot Chloe daggers, mouthing ‘behave’ to her.
“Maybe some other time, Chloe,” Ethan said.
“Aw bummer. Well, you kids have fun. Be safe. Don’t keep her out too late.”
“Bye, Chloe,” Daisy said, pulling the door closed.
“So let me get this straight,” Ryan Malone said, dribbling a basketball as he looked for an opening past Chad’s outstretched arms. “You’re doing this whole romance contest thing just to piss off some girl in your writers’ group?”
“Pretty much,” Chad said, shifting to his left, then right to follow Ryan’s moves. They were out for their daily unwind on the basketball court in Venice Beach at the end of the workday. Beyond the court, the sand stretched to the ocean, painted gold in the setting sun.
“Is she at least hot?” Ryan said, making a sudden side-step past Chad and dribbling the ball in for a layup. Ryan, aka ‘Rhino,’ had been Chad’s roommate and fraternity brother in college; and now, in what would be the ‘adult’ years for most people, they still shared a two-bedroom apartment in Venice Beach.
“Dude, she marks her comments on my scenes in colored markers,” Chad said as he caught the ball on the bounce and dribbled it back to center court. “She uses blue to highlight the parts she says need to be de-Chaded. Her words.”
“What’s wrong with that?” asked Rhino, keeping his eye on the ball as Chad tried to line up his shot.
“She painted the entire thing blue,” Chad said, leaping into the air and taking his shot. It sailed smoothly through the net with a whoosh.
“Ouch,” Rhino laughed as he retrieved the ball and walked it back to center court. “Rough audience.”
“Ya think?” Chad said as he squared off. “And now I’m stuck with her as my writing partner.”
“So, is she hot?”
“You keep asking that.”
“That’s because you keep dodging it,” Rhino said, dribbling the ball as he looked for an opening. “Which makes me wonder. Is she hot? Yes or no.”
“Define hot.”
“Would you hit on her if you saw her in a bar?” Rhino said, shifting left and then right.
