I’m not sure why Julia came back uptown with me after we left Big Mama. Or why she followed me all the way to my office. Or why she’s now seated on my furniture asking very stupid questions.

“A mistake?” My words come out in a hiss. Julia is marrying Paul; how dare she not thank her lucky stars? “What do you mean, a mistake?”

“Only that Paul is so predictable sometimes, don’t you think?” Jules doesn’t let me answer before she continues. “Take the way he proposed. He made a romantic dinner at home with candlelight and roses and popped the question after dessert.”

Red. I see red, and I’m not sure I can keep the anger out of my voice as I ask, “And what would a worthy proposal have entailed?”

“Something more original… More special. Take Amanda’s boyfriend.” Amanda is her best friend. “Joshua asked her on the summit of a wild mountain after they’d struggled to the top together. Paul’s proposal was so cliché by comparison.”

“I’m pretty sure that if Paul ever asked you to go rock-climbing, you’d dump him on the spot.”

Jules shrugs. “Fair enough, but you’re missing the point.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Sometimes I think Paul is a bit, you know, boring. Take his looks, for example, blond hair, blue eyes, square jaw… He’s just so WASP-y; even his job is so proper and expected…”

I’m trying really hard not to start yelling what an ungrateful, spoiled brat she is. “I’m curious, how would a non-boring man look?”

Julia stares at the ceiling with a dreamy expression. “Don’t you ever dream of an adventure with a tall, dark stranger? Someone with smoldering green eyes and full lips, and danger written all over his face. Someone who speaks Italian and doesn’t own a car.”

“And how would he get around? On the subway?”

The last time my sister took the subway, I was still in college.

“Ew, no. He would ride a bike, of course. One of those big, black monsters… We’re talking about the kind of guy who sweeps you off your feet with just one look, who can make you fall hard and fast. Someone mysterious, intriguing…”

“And what occupation would this dangerous stranger have, since marketing is clearly so out of style with you?” I ask, even if I agree that Paul’s job isn’t exactly exciting. I’ve no clue why he decided to waste all his creativeness to go work in the driest, most Corporate America branch of marketing the city has to offer.

“You didn’t get offended, did you?” Jules says. “When I said Paul’s job is boring, I didn’t mean yours, too. You do completely different things.”

Her disrespect of my profession is the least of my concerns at the moment.

“Not at all,” I say.

“Anyway,” she continues, unfazed. I suspect I could’ve said I was mortally offended, and I would’ve gotten the same reaction. “My stranger would have to be some kind of struggling artist, someone who lives paycheck to paycheck, and who appreciates everything he has because he doesn’t know if he’s going to still have it tomorrow.”