Page 24 of Callan

He deftly pulls out five one hundred dollar bills.

Man, what’s up with all this money?

I thought they were role playing, not dealing upstairs.

I hope he’s not––they’re not.

The last thing I want is to get involved with some local gangsters and get questioned at the police station.

My mind wanders away with a whirl of conflicting emotions when his eyes burn holes into my face, busting with scrutiny.

“Mackenzie?”

His voice is like a shot of hard liquor over my palate and has the exact same warm effect on my body.

Mackenzie.

Never in my life has someone called my name like that. In a baritone, raspy voice, with a hint of worry and curiosity in his tone.

I’ve been Kenzie Girl all my life. Kayla often calls me Kenny. And we frequently laugh about it like it’s a good joke.

The way he said it… Oh, my.

Mackenzie finally has a ring to it.

“Yes,” I answer in a whispered voice.

He cocks an eyebrow at me before I speak.

“Not that it matters to you. And it really shouldn’t,” I clarify. “Unlike you and the woman upstairs, my ex and I weren’t a good fit.”

I snatch the rest of the money from his hand and shove it in my bra, the cup now a size bigger from all that cash.

“I wouldn’t make long-term plans with the woman upstairs if I were you,” I say. “Even if she likes the way you fuck her and cheers you on every time you take her to her high, look at her now. She’s quiet as a mouse and just as happy.”

“You don’t know what they’re doing,” he says, mostly pulling my leg, I suspect.

“As if you do. What do you think it is? He sang her a lullaby and put her to sleep? I’ve heard having makeup sex is just as satisfying, if not more satisfying than forbidden sex. But as you may as well know, I’m not a specialist. You are the expert in the matter. Now get out of my place before I change my mind and call the cops,” I say, showing him inside my apartment so he can find the door and get lost.

He points to the patio door.

“After you,” he says with a smirk.

“All right.”

I dust off my wrinkled dignity and step in.

His heavy steps ring behind me.

For some reason, I’m pissed. Majorly pissed.

I wish I’d gotten half of the concern he has with that woman from Quinn. My ex never cared what happened after he dropped me off. Whether I went to sleep or fucked random guys on the side.

And look at this stranger, paying hard, cold cash to learn more about the woman upstairs who, as we speak, fulfills her marital duties, opening her legs for her husband.

He asked me how I knew she was married?

Wasn’t it obvious?

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