Black Top said, “Or we’ll think you guys are really weird.”

Frank and Phil kissed again. Frank wiggled his hips in a parody of girlishness.

Everyone laughed.

Frank slid into the booth next to Red Top.

His arm snaked around her shoulder with the ease of habit. Phil’s arm did the same for Black Top.

Phil uncovered the second iced tea and slid it over to Frank.

Frank high-fived air, raised the glass. “Thank you, bro.”

Phil did the same with his tea. “Bro.”

They stretched in front of the women and clinked.

Red Top said, “Here we go again. Boys, pay attention: There are beautiful, sexy women here.”

“Brotherly love beats that,” said Black Top, pouting.

Frank said, “Brotherly love. Guess we should live in Philadelphia.”

Red said, “Huh?”

She turned to Black, who shrugged. “What do you mean, Frankie?”

Phil said, “Forget it, Lori, let’s order.”

“Is it some kind of joke? Philadelphia’s like nowhere.”

“Ever been there?”

“No, but there’s no beach.”

Phil said, “Now you’re a geography expert.”

Frank snickered.

Black said, “C’mon, Frankie. What’s the joke?”

Frank did a slow eye roll. “It was a bad joke, baby. So what’re we having?”

Red said, “Why would you tell a bad one?”

Frank’s face tightened. “I didn’t know it was bad until I said it.” Speaking slowly, as if to a dull child.

Red said, “Oh. Okay.”

Phil said, “Think of it this way: When you guys put on the wrong bikini it takes you by surprise, right? It looks good on the rack, but then you find out it doesn’t work on the bod.”

Lori pouted. “Everything’s right on this bod, Philly.” Puffing a substantial chest.

Her friend did the same. Then she brightened. “Oh,” she said, “I get it: Philly from Philadelphia.”

Titters.

Black said, “But Frankie from Philadelphia doesn’t fit.”

Dr. Frank Suss said, “There you go, always a bridesmaid, never a bride.”

Puzzled looks.

Phil Suss said, “Enough of this bullshit. You guys are the hottest thing on the planet and Frankie and I dig you and I’m hungry.”

Chapter 33

hil, Frank, Lori, and the woman finally identified as Divana punctuated their lunch with frequent kisses, cheek strokes, and some not-so-subtle under-table gropes.

The couples paired off loosely: Frank with Divana, Phil with Lori. But I remembered the ass-patting back on Alhama Drive and doubted it was as simple as that.

Robin and I picked our way through a couple of salads and tried to look casual. As the meal wore on, her smile began to look like a decal.

But she was relaxed as we left Satori moments after the foursome departed.

Brothers in the middle, arms around each other’s waists, laughing. Mute women flanking.

Phil and Lori got into the BMW. Frank ushered Divana into a black Cadillac XTS.

I said, “Any suggestions if they split up?”