“Why?”
“Because it’s awkward.”
“Could you please wear a shirt when Brittany’s here?”
“For who?”
“For me, for starters.”
He smiled.
“Oh, come on. Let someone besides you see how good I look now.”
I stared at him.
He flexed one arm.
“She doesn’t see men like me every day anyway.”
“Let someone besides you see how good I look now.”
“She came over to discuss inventory, not inspect yours.”
Greg laughed.
I didn’t.
“I’m serious. Please put on a T-shirt when she’s here.”
“Fine.”
I should have known that particular “fine.”
“Please put on a T-shirt when she’s here.”
It was the same “fine” Greg used when I asked him not to leave wet towels on the bed.
Technically an acknowledgment.
Legally meaningless.
***
A few days later, Brittany came over so we could review sales.
It was the same “fine” Greg used when I asked him not to leave wet towels on the bed.
Before she arrived, I saw Greg’s gym bag near the stairs.
“You going out?”
“Already went.”
I looked at him.
He was wearing a T-shirt.
Good.
Maybe we’d solved it.
He was wearing a T-shirt.
Brittany arrived.
We made coffee and opened our laptops.
Twenty minutes later, Greg walked into the kitchen.
