Chapter 7: Unabashed Bromment

Chapter 7: Unabashed Bromment

I wouldn’t recommend treating your friends as love gurus, but I didn’t have a choice so I went against my own advice.

Guru #1 was Madeleine. She joined me at my desk in the office the following day with tears dripping from her eyes.

“He stopped returning my calls and my text messages.” She dragged the chair from the nearby unoccupied desk to my space and sat on it.

I recalled all the names of the men Madeleine had spoken about in the last four months. “Tracy, right?” I asked, booting up my computer. I had just arrived at the office.

“Tracey with an ‘e.’” She dabbed the side of her eyes with a tissue. “He has a feminine name.”

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Chapter 5: Myrna's Garden

I could list a few people who I believed could outrun Gina any day: stick-thin Amy who I had never seen leave the reception area, Madeleine in a pair of six-inch stilettos and even Leopold who never went beyond a jog when using a treadmill. But that assumption didn’t deter me from my mission. After fifteen minutes of brisk walking, I pressed the most important button on the treadmill Gina was using. I pressed it five times.

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Chapter 3: The Other Gina

I knew Gina was getting married to a douchebag named Danny Fackelmeyer. I also knew she didn’t buy clothes from Victoria’s Secret. I suspected that her eyes rolled upward during orgasm as I observed from every spoon of cheesecake she ate. Beyond those, I knew nothing more and I needed to know more so I could find more reasons to have glee over her current state of life. “Private” cock-blocked me, though. Her Twitter, Instagram and Facebook profiles were all set to private. I supposed if you did not have a six-pack or did not look acceptable in a bikini, you’d make your social media accounts private too. My only consolation was her one public profile photo, a semi-duck-faced selfie and one public cover photo, a row of rose bushes.

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