Page 34 of Intoxicated
“And I have a pretty good idea about yours, too. You’re not doing too badly for yourself, right? Sounds like you gleam a lot of money from your marks before you break their hearts and move on to the next one. Someone has to pay for your apartment in Northwest, right? You don’t have a day job, yet I see you in the trendiest, most expensive places around town. I hope you’re investing your money well, though. You’re only going to get older, and then what? It’s so much harder to get old men with money to give a fuck about your pussy when it’s not so…”
My heel meets his toes.
“Shut the fuck up!” Those words echo across the half-empty parking lot. Birds take flight from a nearby tree. Someone walking their dog looks in our direction. Cars slow down. Before anyone thinks to call 911, I take a large step back and hoist my purse up my shoulder. “Shut up and leave mealone.”
“So…” Drew grits his teeth, as if he can’t feel what I did to his toes. “Want to get a drink at a place up the street from here? They have great margaritas. After what they did to us in that clinic, I think we deserve a little alcohol. Hm?”
I fix my hair and grumble that I would rather suck Satan’s dick. When I speak louder, fully intending to verbally castrate him, I say, “Sure. Why the fuck not. I need a drink.”
Somebody please, please save me from myself.
