“So she’s crazy. Guess what? All women are crazy. You know why? Because all men are liars. Like you don’t know. You’re telling me what? That if this salesgirl says to you, ‘Come on in the back, let me suck your dick,’ you’re gonna say what? No? ‘I don’t want you to suck my dick even if you are young and beautiful.’ Bullshit.”
Monty had passed his bar exams the previous year. Whereas I had perfunctorily gone to school and received a degree in business, Monty had soared through his education and was given a junior partnership at a prestigious law firm. It was quite an accomplishment, but then again, Monty usually got what he wanted. What his sunny blond hair and rugged good looks did not bring to him, his sharp mind could figure out a way to obtain. Every year a local magazine listed the city’s most eligible bachelors, and Monty’s name was invariably at the top of the list. I went to see him at his office. The secretary escorted me in, and I found Monty reclined with his shoes, black leather buffed to a luxurious glow, propped up on his desk, a cigarette clipped between his fingers. Since our father’s death, I always consulted Monty with my problems. He was stronger, smarter, and more worldly than me.
“It’s not like that,” I said.
“It’s exactly like that. I know it. You know it. She knows it. Men cannot be trusted. And it drives women crazy.”
Monty lit another cigarette, blew a smoke ring. It drifted into my face.
“And she’s worth how much? How many millions? She can afford to pull her hair out.”
“Please.”
“Look, Adam, your track record with women isn’t exactly phenomenal. People are starting to wonder, you know.”
“This is your idea of advice?”
“I’m just saying that you have a history of running away from girls who want you.”
That was a low blow. I was shocked that he would dare mention it at all. He was referring to an incident from our childhood. A girl who vacationed with our family. A girl I had a boyhood crush on. Some extremely unpleasant things happened that summer-including our parents’ deaths at the end of it. It was an unfortunate slip on his part.
“You have a history as well,” I said. “How many women has it been now that you’ve allowed the pleasure of your company?”
“Beyond number.” He smiled. It wasn’t much of a jab from me. He was quite proud of his reputation as a Lothario.
“Look, so she’s a little loony tunes. You say she’s pretty. You say she’s rich-”
“It’s her father’s money.”
“And he’s how old?”
“You’re certainly a lawyer.”
“Thank you. Want me to be the best man?”