Page 92 of The Woman By the Lake

“I didn’t think we’d meet up like that, or I would have gotten you a coffee.”

“I’m good, honey. But thanks.”

“Though, I got treats for the road.”

“Saw that.”

“How’s your friend?”

“Not my friend anymore.”

For the second time that day, he was met with silence from her, and having her actually with him, he could feel how profound it was this time.

It was her turn to break it.

“What does that mean?” she asked softly.

“I’m thinking he’s freaked about what happened to him. Definitely they got him on drugs for pain. But still, seems he’s feeling some, and not just the kind that comes from the body. Even so, he let loose in the kind of way there’s no coming back.”

“Oh, Riggs,” she said gently. “What did he say?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Actually, if it’s upsetting you, I do.”

“Right then. He’s pissed I ate more pussy in high school than he’s had in his whole life. And it seems that’s a thing for him, because he went on to share how he thought I spent my days, starting them eating more pussy and leaving a woman satisfied even if I didn’t give her anything more than that. He made some comment about how much I make on my commissions, my contract work, that I’d then save a kid from drowning, and end the day banging another woman before I went to bed. He also referred to Angelica as a bitch.”

“Are your commissions unusually pricey?” she asked cautiously.

“I get what people will pay me for them, and I don’t aim low.”

“So the answer to that is yes.”

“I’ll say, when the math is done, I make about five times an hour more working on a commission than I do working a job. And I don’t bid low on jobs either.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Definitely understanding why you own a lake.”

“Honey,” he warned low.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m being flippant because, if I’m not, I’m going to get really, double, super, extra pissed off.”

He glanced from the road to her. “What?”

“I don’t know this person, but he sounds like his blood turned green somewhere along the way, and that green can be acid.”

“That’s about the gist of it,” he concurred.

“So, honestly, Riggs, what the fuck?” she asked.

There was her saying fuck again.

“Nadia—”

“No, Riggs.” Her voice was rising. “What the fuck?”

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