"I don't sleep with him anymore."
"Well, I don't sleep with her anymore."
"Congratulations."
"Back at you."
There was a dead silence between us for a minute as Angie pulled several sheets of thermal fax paper from her bag and smoothed them out on the bar. I drank some more Beck's, fingered the cardboard coaster, felt a grin fighting to break across my face. I glanced at Angie. The corners of her mouth twitched, too.
"Don't look at me," Angie said.
"Why not?"
"I'm telling you-" She lost the battle and closed her eyes as the smile broke across her cheeks.
Mine followed about a half second later.
"I don't know why I'm smiling," Angie said.
"Me, either."
"Prick."
"Bitch."
She laughed at me and turned on her chair, drink in hand. "Miss me?"
Like you can't imagine.
"Not a bit," I said.

-----------------------

In the mean time, I have tonsillitis. SEXY.