The “curse of knowledge” is that knowing a fact makes it harder to imagine what it’s like to not know that fact

In the doorway is a cheerful-looking young black woman, grinning at you. She’s barefoot, and wearing sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt… no, wait, that’s a sleep shirt, and you realize that she’s still in her pajamas.

Which means she’s probably not wearing panties.

She is busty, and gorgeous, and you do your best to act like you’ve never seen her before and have no idea who she is, because you recognized her instantly as Callie Attenborough.

Callie, you remember Molly saying, was “a couple of years ahead of me on the track team, until her tits got too big” – Molly’s almost nineteen, so you’re guessing Callie’s twenty-one-ish.

And, as you remember the Multiplier telling you, she has sex with her mom (Shondra) and her sister (Jenna).

(“Well, technically,” says the part of your brain that fusses over weird unlikely possibilities, “the Multiplier said that Shondra has had sex with Callie, and that Shondra has had sex with Jenna, but that doesn’t necessarily imply that Callie and Jenna have had sex with each other.” You ignore it.)

On the one hand, you’d love to fuck Callie, she’s even more gorgeous in person, and you’re certain she’d come (ha ha) as part of a set.

On the other hand, you’ve already got five Top Prospects who you have strong feelings for (and a bunch of others who you haven’t decided what to do about).

“Jacob, this is Callie,” Sweeney says (and you just barely stop yourself from saying ‘Attenborough’). She sounds a little uncomfortable, and her mouth is curved upward but you can tell she’s not smiling. “Callie, this is Jacob, he –”

“Oh, you’re my new neighbor?!” Callie says, and she sounds thrilled. She strides right in and shakes your hand… and doesn’t let go. “Hi, I’m Callie! I’m 21, and I live right across the hall! So great to meet you!”

“Uh, hi,” you say. “I’m Jacob, and I’m 27. And… I mean, so far I’m just looking.”

As you say this, you feel a buzz from the Multiplier.

“That’s okay,” Callie says, still holding your hand. “Is there anything you’d like to know? About the building, about the neighborhood, about anything?”

You glance at Sweeney. She looks nervous.

“Well, um… what’s it like living in Sweeney’s building? How is she as a landlord?”

As soon as the words are out of your mouth, you realize that maybe you shouldn’t have asked that question when Sweeney was standing right there.

Callie blinks. “Uh…” and her tone of voice changes, going from bubbly-bright to more serious. “In all honesty… pretty great. She’s really, really responsive when there’s problems. Tries really hard. I’ve lived in places where the landlords didn’t give a fuck if the toilet broke or the wiring went to shit.” She’s still holding your hand.

“Uh, well, I’ve had bad landlords myself,” Sweeney says awkwardly. “I, I wouldn’t want to put anyone else through that.”

“See? She cares about people!” Callie asserts, bubbly again. “Plus, she’s pretty! And she smells nice!”

“That’s, um, that’s Lilac Paradise,” Sweeney says. “George – one of my old tenants – he worked in a cosmetics store, so he’d get me discontinued stuff on clearance, and –”

“Have a sniff!” Callie urges you, and then leans her head close to Sweeney and takes a long sniff. “Mmmm,” she says.

Sweeney looks paralyzed. Her eyes are wide.

You may not be the most socially aware person in the world, but you know better than to do that!

(Well, with someone you just met, anyway.)

(Although you probably could have done that with Sigrid.)

(Although a cop probably wouldn’t wear perfume on duty.)

“I don’t have much of a sense of smell,” you lie. Sweeney exhales, and the Multiplier buzzes.

“Oh,” Callie says, and for a second she looks disappointed. “Anything else you wanna know?” she offers, glancing at Sweeney and rubbing your palm with her thumb (!).

“Well, actually,” you say, “I didn’t have a chance to research Gillistown before I came over. What’s it like in terms of, well… I don’t suppose you know the walkability score?”

Callie looks at you like she’s seeing you for the first time (although come to think of it, she pretty much is).

“Which walkability score?” she says.

“Oh christ, you had to ask. Um. Not Cortez, I know Cortez is deprecated – ”

Callie snickers, and you hear a buzz from your phone. “Trust me, I have a ten-minute rant about what’s wrong with Cortez, but even the Cortez score is twenty-four, and it’s only that low because they’re replacing the highway interchange six miles from here.”

“What about Slater… oh damn, Slater-somebody. Starts with M, I think?”

Sweeney is staring at you now.

“Slater-Melville, yeah!” Callie says eagerly. Buzz. “Slater-Melville for Gillistown is, no shit, sixty. And if they go ahead with the transit system revamp next year, it could get as high as sixty-five. Egeberg-Rawlins is fifty-two point four, Bajraktari is forty-four point one. Adjusted Bajraktari is forty-six even. Greentoes is eighty-three point six, but Greentoes is bullshit. Even Cortez is better than Greentoes. I’m thinking for my keystone project I’m gonna write up a formal analysis of what’s wrong with it.” She’s gesturing excitedly with her left hand, but still holding onto you with the right.

“I’ve never even heard of those,” you admit.

“Oh. Um, I’m in the public policy and urban design program at Hennessey. Third year. I got interested in it because my mom’s a bus driver,” Callie says, and you almost say “a bus driver” along with her but manage to squelch that impulse because you have no legitimate way of knowing that detail.

“It’s a really nice neighborhood with a lot of nice stuff in it for people who aren’t rich,” Sweeney says quietly.

“Twenty-two parks in a five-mile radius,” Callie says. “Eleven supermarkets. Bike paths. Four community gardens. We’re fifteen minutes from the old canal! You ever go walking along the old canal?”

You shake your head. “Not since I was a kid, and not this part of it.”

“Oh, it’s great, I can show you a bunch of stuff! There’s a sculpture garden by the railway bridge!”

Sweeney mumbles something that you’re reasonably confident included the word “sunset”.

You’re not sure, but you think Callie just asked you on a date.

You’re also not sure it’d be the best idea to say ‘yes’, and not just because you don’t know if the No Jealousy attribute is working on Sweeney yet.

“Um. Maybe, if I do end up moving in here, we could maybe talk about that, possibly.”

Callie looks surprised. “Why wouldn’t you?”

Sweeney clears her throat. “Um. I, uh, I do have to check his, uh, his references first, his finances, that sort of thing. And, uh, I’ve already had a few other people make appointments to see the apartment, it wouldn’t be fair to them if I cancel before they even have a chance, right?”

“Plus,” you add, “I should probably look at a few other places instead of just taking the very first apartment I see.”

“I suppose,” Callie concedes. “Is this better than where you were before, at least?”

“Well, until Monday evening I was in Marklin, just off Preston Street.”

Callie and Sweeney both wince. “First two years we came up out of Texas, we lived just off Preston. Ramsey Street,” Callie says. “Three years on Oxley,” Sweeney says.

“What happened Monday evening?” Callie asks.

“A fire.”

Callie grimaces. “Well, at least it got you away from Preston Street.”

“That’s true, I guess. For now, I’m staying in Saint Philip, which is – well, I really haven’t had the chance to look around, but it’s –”

“ – a lot more residential than Marklin?” Callie guesses. You nod.

“I looked at some places in Saint Philip before I moved here,” Sweeney says. “Couldn’t afford them. I can now, but…”

“So what’re you doing in Saint Philip?” Callie asks.

“Staying with my sister,” you say, and Sweeney’s eyes widen, and she blushes.

… what? Why’d she do that? She can’t possibly know you’ve been fucking Tammy (and Molly), can she?

Can she?

How can she!

Oh shit. Change the subject, fast! Maybe Callie knows why the public transit in Saint Philip is so inadequate?

“Incidentally,” you say to Callie, “I don’t suppose you know why the –” and Callie cuts you off.

“Oh wait!” she says , letting go of your hand. “You lived in Marklin!”

“… yes?”

“What bus did you take! Did you take the 78!”

Mostly, yes. “Uh, sometimes?”

“My mom’s a driver on the 78! Did you take it yesterday morning!”

“Um. Yes.”

“Wait just a moment, I’ll be right back!”

Callie dashes out the door and across the hall into her own apartment.

You turn to Sweeney. “What – how did –” you begin.

She shrugs helplessly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t –” but before she can tell you what she’s sorry about, Callie dashes back in with her phone.

“Here!” she says eagerly, and shows you a picture of a reasonably attractive black woman in her early 40s, sitting in a restaurant and winking at the photographer. “Was this her!”

Of course it was, but despite how gorgeous she is, and how unbelievably hot it would be in principle to fuck her along with her mother and sister, the way Callie is acting towards Sweeney is kind of weird and uncomfortable, so you hedge.

“Um. I… remember the driver was a black woman, yeah?”

You haven’t really had the chance to build up any detailed fantasies about fucking Callie, Jenna, and Shondra Attenborough together, but you’re pretty sure that if you had, they wouldn’t go like this.

“Did you get on her bus again in the afternoon! From the mall on Collingwood! With a bunch of shopping bags! Did you say ‘hi again’ to her!”

You know very well that’s exactly what you did. “Uh, yeah, and… maybe?”

“Oh, she’s gonna be so excited when I tell her I found you! Did you get an erection on the bus!”

Sweeney inhales sharply.

“I, uh, I put my shopping bags on my lap, I didn’t want to bother –”

“EEEEEE!” Callie squeals, and claps her hands in delight. “Do you have an erection right now!”

You glance at Sweeney. Her eyes are bulging, and she’s hyperventilating.

And her nipples are visibly poking out through her top. And so are Callie’s.

Your cock instantly reacts.

“Callie,” you say very carefully, “I’m meeting a friend for lunch pretty soon. I should have left a while ago, to be honest.”

Sweeney relaxes a little.

“Awww,” Callie says, obviously disappointed. “Well… next time?”

You don’t ask ‘next time for what’. You know exactly what she means, and you know she knows you know.

“Sure,” you say.

She sighs. “Okay. Oh, and before you leave… there’s something you should know. It’s about Sweeney.”

Sweeney stiffens again. “Callie…” she begins, warningly.

“If you were thinking about taking this place because you thought Sweeney was coming on to you –”

“CALLIE!” Sweeney yells.

“ – she wasn’t,” Callie continues. “Sweeney flirts like that with every guy who’s looking to rent.”

“CALLIE! CALLIE, STOP! SHUT UP! I DO NOT!”

“She’s just horny all the time –”

“I AM NOT!”

“ – because she hasn’t been laid in ten years.”

“I HAVE SO!”

“Doesn’t mean she’ll suck your cock.”

“YES IT DOES!”

Sweeney freezes, a look of horror on her face.

“Oh, it does ?” Callie says with a huge grin. “Huh! Guess I’m wrong, then! Do you wanna show me how wrong I am, Sweeney?”

“I – I – I – I –” Sweeney stammers. You feel terrible. You’re about to tell her that of course you don’t expect her to follow through on that offer, since she clearly didn’t intend to make it.

“It’s okay,” you start to say, and then you realize that she’s staring at your erection.

Callie is so excited she looks she’s about to burst.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!” Sweeney screams, then runs out the door, sobbing.