“The world is confused about the situation with Alton and Tynisha,” she quickly returned.
“I don’t think Alton and Tynisha are quite in the know about the situation between Alton and Tynisha, in spite of that reality show bullshit.” I detested that fucking show. They’re horrible for relationships. “But I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Zoey’s arm slipped from the ledge and she lost her balance. We were in ten feet so she had to catch herself quickly.
Her eyes were wild and her breathing matched. “But you told Angela—”
“I didn’t tell Angela shit,” I quickly and calmly retorted. I had a feeling this would come up the more time we spent with each other. I don’t lie, but I also don’t rat.
Zoey issued a long and nasty glower. I decided to give her a moment. I was prepared. She then started to shake her head, exasperated.
“What’s the problem? Why are you looking like it’s about to be a murder was the case that they gave me type of situation here?”
“Because the only reason she’s with Alton now is because she’s under the impression that you have a girlfriend and there’s no chance with you…because you won’t cheat on your girlfriend. But technically it’s Alton that’s cheating on his girlfriend and…” she shook her head, out of breath. “This stuff is so messy. I-I just don’t understand it.” Zoey pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I simply wasn’t interested in Angela.” I found myself wanting to argue my point to this…damn-near teen. “And Alton picked it up…and he also picked up she was game for anything. That’s why she’s with him.” My voice was even, but my tone choppy.
“So you don’t have any girlfriends…no one of significance?”
“No.”
“Well, are you dating anyone?”
“Well, yeah. I’m a healthy man. I date.”
“Are you dating anyone serious?”
How many times was she going to ask the same question?
“No. Not really.”
“What’s not really—no?” she transitioned in thought. “Answer this: Who was your last date?”
“A woman…from the industry. We’ve been skirting around the idea of formally dating, even went out last week. It’s taking time, but time is necessary for this type of set up.”
“What’s formally dating? Either you’re dating or you’re not.”
“Formally dating is announcing it to the public. I hate that shit.”
“Why?”
“It’s manufactured. My real life isn’t for public consumption,” I more or less mumbled. Truth be told, I didn’t have much of a personal life. I’d been too paranoid about having it dissected by the public.
“So, this woman…,” Zoey continued. Her eyes far softer—timid even—expressing vulnerability for switching gears. “…what are your reservations? Why are you stalling?” Zoey looked away, trying to appear less interested than I knew she was.
Great question.
“I don’t know. She’s been around. And while I don’t really trip off a woman’s track record, I certainly don’t want the world to know who my lady has fucked.”
“And?”
Damn. She could sense my apprehension.
“And I don’t like arranged relationships. If I’m going to pursue a woman, I don’t need my publicist or hers involved.”
“So, this would be for publicity?” Zoey didn’t mask her curiosity this time.
“For me it would. For her, maybe not. She’s been consistent over the years in expressing her fixation with Stenton Rogers.”
“And that’s not the real you,” Zoey noted pensively.