Page 22 of Positively Pricked
I wasn't quite sure what he meant. "A habit of what?"
"Being careless."
My jaw dropped. "You're one to talk."
After all,Iwasn't the one who knocked over the serving station.
His gaze shifted, as if taking in our surroundings. "And where's your partner?"
"What partner? You mean Naomi? She's driving the van back."
"And the others?"
"You mean the other catering assistants?" I gave a bitter laugh. "They left an hour ago."
"And you didn't?"
"No, because I got stuck trying to clean that stupid rug, not that it did any good."
To add insult to injury, it wasn't evenmyidea. Naomi and I had been all packed up and ready to leave when Ms. Hedgwick marched up to tell us that we couldn’t go anywhere until we'd cleaned upallof our mess,includingthe rug.
It was so unfair. I mean, it's not likewetoppled the table.
Again, I felt my gaze narrow. In fact, the table had been toppled by Zane, who apparently, wasn't done making my night miserable.
His cool voice interrupted my thoughts. "Fuck the rug."
And there it was – another dose of déjà vu. It was just like his comment about the crab cakes, but only worse, because it was three hours later, and I felt so damned grubby.
I gave him my snottiest smile. "I can't, because I'm too tired from 'fucking' the crab cakes."
My words hung in the air, and I felt color rush to my cheeks. I didn't seriously just say that.Fuck the crab cakes?That sounded weird and stupid, and yes, obscene in a truly disgusting way.
Plus, now that I thought about it, he hadn't said "Fuck the crab cakes." He'd said, "Fuck the candles."
Totally different.
Worst of all, I swear, I saw amusement flicker in his eyes until it was replaced by something else.
Sadness?
No. Contempt. Or something just as bad.
Either way, I'd had enough. I said, "What do you want, anyway?"
As an answer, he held out his hand, palm up. "Your phone."
"What?" I gave him a perplexed look. "Why?"
"I'm gonna key in my number."
Okay, now I was really confused. "And why would you do that?"
"So you can call me when you're fired."
My stomach clenched. "What?"
"When you're fired," he said, "call me."
