Chasing Stanley by Deirdre Martin

came to her rescue. But rather than being grateful, she was pissed! Care to explain that to me?”
    â€œYo, Mr. I Have No Impulse Control, this is not Flasher, okay?” said Eric as he watched two giggly coeds in NYU sweatshirts bounce along the street. “New York women can take care of themselves. Delilah might be small, but she’s obviously got spunk.”
    â€œWhat am I supposed to do now?” Jason asked. “Apologize to her for being a nice guy?”
    â€œAbsolute-a-mento. Chicks dig it when guys admit they’re wrong.” Eric put his arm around Jason’s shoulder. “Look, I know you like her. If she’s stupid enough to like you back, it can’t hurt to act all chastened and shit, like you really didn’t mean to offend her or overstep your bounds or whatever. She’ll be eating out of your hand.”
    Jason removed his brother’s arm. “You really need to cancel your subscription to Maxim , you know that? It’s starting to rot your brain.”
    â€œYou asked me what you should do. I told you.”
    Jason grunted. He had no problem apologizing. He was willing to do whatever it took to restore himself to her good graces. He hated that she might think he was some kind of macho jerk.
    â€œI gotta get going,” he told Eric, prompted by Stanley’s newly persistent pawing, which meant only one thing: hunger. “What’s the drill tonight?”
    â€œI’ll swing by at around eight, and we’ll head down to McDougal’s to meet the rest of the guys.”
    â€œSounds good.”
    â€œIf I run into Delilah, do you want me to say anything on your behalf?”
    Jason scowled. “ No. I can handle things on my own.”
    Eric snorted as he walked away. “Keep tellin’ yourself that.”
    Â 
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    â€œYour mother’s here.”
    The doorman’s voice was cheerful as it crackled over the intercom, a stark contrast to Delilah’s own mood. For weeks, Mitzi Gould had been hounding her daughter to get together, completely ignoring Delilah’s busy schedule. Finally, unable to take the endless dramatic messages left on her answering machine (“You have time to train dogs to sit, but you can’t make time for your own mother?” “You haven’t called in three days. I could be dead for all you know.”), Delilah broke down and invited her mother into the city for lunch. The closer the date drew near, the more tense Delilah grew. She hadn’t slept at all the night before, which meant only one thing: within five minutes of letting her mother in the door, she’d tell Delilah how awful she looked.
    â€œSend her up.”
    Maddening as Mitzi could be, Delilah was hopeful lunch would her take her mind off Jason. Did she really act “twittery” when he asked her out for coffee? She knew she’d hesitated a bit, but overall, she thought she was doing well. If they hadn’t been interrupted by that jerk who didn’t pick up after his dog, she probably would have gone for coffee with him. And Stan. No, not probably. She would have. Especially after that kiss.
    Running into his brother had thrown her a bit, too. Not only because Jason had never mentioned having a brother, but because Eric was so flirty with her, so fast. Delilah might be more attuned to animals than people, but even she could tell Eric was trying to get Jason’s goat by asking her to join them for pizza. She didn’t appreciate being a toy in the competition between the two.
    â€œHelloooo.” The voice on the other side of Delilah’s door was quiet yet imperious, the knock accompanying it coming later than Delilah expected. Her mother must have taken the stairs rather than the elevator in her never-ending quest to “burn extra calories”—as if she were even in need of such thing. Mitzi Gould weighed ninety pounds soaking wet, if that.
    Delilah took a good look around her