Page 9 of Cocky Jerk

“That’s a shame,” she volleys, taking a massive bite of her sandwich. “I saw you checking out my new intern and…” her voice trails as she chews. “…don’t try to deny it or spin me some bullshit story like you did with her. Checking out her tailpipe? Really, Marco? Is that the best you could come up with?”

I thought that was pretty creative.

“And did you really pull her over and give her all those tickets?”

I stare at her blankly.

Is she kidding me with that question?

“You make it sound like I did something wrong.”

She shrugs her shoulders.

“I mean, you didn’thaveto give her three tickets. Hell, you didn’t have to give her any at all, you could’ve let her go with a warning. Especially if you’re attracted to her.”

“It’s my job to give tickets.”

She rolls her eyes and takes another bite of her sandwich.

“You’re a cop Marco, not a fucking meter maid, and Tig told me a story where you pulled over three girls in one day and got all their numbers.”

“It was one time, and I was fresh out of the academy,” I argue, silently cursing my cousin.

He’s worse than a gossiping woman.

“So, you didn’t pull over my intern because she’s smoking hot?”

When did the conversation go from planning a surprise party to me picking up chicks? I need to start paying more attention to people when they talk and stop robbing food from their plates when they’re not looking. Then I can avoid ridiculous conversations like this one.

“You know what I think.”

Christ, please make it stop.

“Maybe you did pull her over because she disobeyed some traffic regulation, but once you got a dose of her, you wanted more. Let’s be real, Marco, you like them hot and feisty. You wanted to see if you could get a rise out of her, so you gave her three tickets. But you dropped the ball. Instead of getting her digits and a date for Friday, you’re the one who got a rise. Am I right?”

And this is why we stopped talking on the regular even before she got herself a husband. Soraya has no fucking filter and no problem sticking her nose in other people’s business.

“You’re out of your mind,” I scoff, shoving another pickle into my mouth. “She sped right through a red light. Hot or not, I would’ve pulled anyone who did that over.”

“Ahah! So you admit she’s hot.”

“Well, I’m not denying it,” I say, crunching down on the pickle. “Why the hell do you have an intern, anyway?”

“Ida has taken a lighter load, so now that I have more responsibilities, Antonia is the one who will be filtering through the submissions.”

I ponder that, trying to picture the Harley riding hottie behind a computer screen from nine to five.

“She doesn’t seem like the type for office work,” I comment.

“You know her five minutes.”

That may be true, but I’m a good judge of character and confining that woman to a cubicle for eight hours a day would be as successful as trying to baptize a cat.

“Shit,” Soraya says, glancing down at her phone. “I have to go. Graham is tied up at the office and I have to get Chloe from school.”

She reaches into her bag for her wallet and I stretch my arm across the table, gripping her wrist.

“Get out of here,” I tell her. “I got lunch.”

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