James felt his defenses rising up, prickly and poisonous, as Victoria continued. He couldn't help but feel like she was being a little condescending. What did she know? She had never been in this situation, and yet she talked like an old professional at all aspects of relationships. Just because she was with that little fangling didn't give her the right to talk like she was all knowing. James realized he may have encouraged this, may have given her the idea that he thought she was some kind of relationship expert by coming to her at all. But then another thought occurred to the Weatherby:
A woman scorned.
Perhaps she was being condescending because he had dumped her. Perhaps this was her way of getting back at him for dating her despite knowing he was gay. Well, for all she knew, maybe he was still figuring out that part of himself while they were together. James had already known, of course. But Victoria didn't know he already knew. Typical, James thought, for someone to assume the worst of someone else. Whatever the case, something was different between them. James felt himself recoiling. Whatever attempted tendrils of emotional connection he had with Victoria were shriveling away. This was a mistake.
He sniffed and the waiter came to refill their glasses. A silence stretched between James and Victoria while the waiter was there, her question hanging in the air.