Learning The Curve
BISHOP
The phone rings, picking up after the third repetition.
“Reed here.”
“Jackson… s**t, you’re up.”
“Christ, Bishop.”
I hear Jackson shift through sheets on the other end of the line. “God Almighty. Stop f*****g calling me at three in the morning. I thought you were my little French hottie.”
“The waitress from the little cafe?”
He laughs. “Yup. My little croissant. Her name’s Amelie. You haven’t lived until you’ve loved a French girl, Bish. I should know… I’ve fallen for at least three.”
“And by ‘fallen,’ I’m sure you mean ‘f****d’.” I bring the phone closer. “I’ll pass. Right now, I’ve got too many women to think about.”
“Too many? Got something you want to tell me, Bishop…?”
I hear Jackson perk up. I take a long inhale off my cigarette.
“Other than the
