“Shut up and listen, former ex-boyfriend now husband.”
Gina turned, and her blonde hair fanned in a flat, golden circle: the mirror image of Tom’s favorite Pantene commercial. This never failed to disrupt the electrical impulses in Tom’s sino-atrial node, and she knew it.
Tom clutched his chest and gasped. “Former … and ex … That’s a double negative.”
“Quiet. I’m trying to explain why I never brought the three lumberjacks that I met at the Blue Onion back here: we got a room at Quality Inn like decent human beings. Everything stays out of the home, Tom. Do you think the eye exams I had every week with Dr. Goldhammer were real? That all the police johnnies use my first name because I clean the department every Friday? Isn’t it strange that our phone goes out at night and the repairman needs me to go out to his truck and help fix it? You can’t be that dumb. Or are you?”
“I … uh … I thought you were just being nice.”
“No, I sleep around. What I don’t do is have sex where I sleep. You broke that rule, Tom, and I want you out.”