I know he’s trying to be encouraging, telling me he still believes in me, but it’s like a knife to the gut, the mention of next time. I’ll be thirty-four next time, a long shot even without everything else that’s happened.

“Or maybe she stays here and becomes a tango champion,” G says. “She’s very talented. She’s my favorite student,” he adds in a way that seems designed to ensure that Blair knows we’re sleeping together.

“You’ll do anything you want,” Blair says. “You deserve to.”

Gemma gracefully inserts herself into the conversation and eases the tension, detailing the adventures we’ve had since I’ve arrived. I’m relieved to have Gemma in this moment with her levity and her talkativeness.

When Blair heads off to the bathroom, G wastes no time.

“So who is this guy? An ex-boyfriend?”

“He’s one of my best friends from home. We’ve know each other since I was five. You’re not jealous, are you?” I say the last part teasingly, but he takes immediate offense and laughs coldly.

“No, Liz, I’ve got nothing to be jealous of. Anyway, pardon me, I see a friend of mine over there, so.” He leans in and gives me a swift kiss on the cheek. I watch him in disbelief. Angelina is near the pool tables with several of her girlfriends. I don’t know when she arrived; I’ve been too distracted. Her face lights up when she sees him heading toward her. He takes her in a big showy hug, picking her up in his arms, twirling her around.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say under my breath.

Gemma looks aghast. “Really?”

“Whatever,” I say, feeling not whatever about it in the least. Blair comes back. “Let’s get out of here,” I tell him, and we say goodbye to Cali and Gemma.