Page 12 of Hallow’s Eve
Lifting my shoulders, I lied, “Always wanted to sling beer and push peanuts.” I sat a bowl of peanuts in front of him.
“You’re a singer.”
“Is there a tell for that?”
“I asked around. Folks say you have a beautiful voice. You going to kick my buddy Dimple off the stage so I can hear it?”
Blushing, I changed the subject. “So, who do you think killed my boss?”
Before he could answer, Viv dropped off my basket of Hot Chicken and fries. She winked at Hallow, and I watched his gorgeous eyes bob on the bunny tail in the middle of her ass as she walked away.
He noticed me watching him ogle her.
I stuffed my mouth full of fries and said, “You like that? You can have it. She’s single.” I took another drink of beer, loving how it dissolved my insecurities. I didn’t tell him that she wouldn’t have him. Viv was a gold digger.
“No, I don’t want her.” Hallow’s hand carefully took my bandaged one, but his eyes bolted to mine as he gave me a serious look. His forehead all crinkled, he smiled at me again. Damn, his smile was fire. With my mouthful, I returned the grin. His flirtatious eyes searched mine. I’m sure they found a twinkle, but I didn’t know what he was looking for. He finally spoke. “I don’t know who killed your boss. I need more information.”
I took my hand from him to eat my chicken.
“You’re eating that stuff with your fingers?”
“Yeah,” I said, for the first time wondering if it was unlady-like or something. Or unsanitary since my hand was bandaged. “What’s wrong with that?” I licked the hot grease off my fingertips and wiped my hands on my apron.
“It’s just so hot. The sauce, I mean. It’ll burn your innards. And you’re hot too. Way hotter than that chicken. But that stuff ain’t fit to eat.”
Laughing at that, I picked up the chicken with my hands again. “You know about Hot Chicken?”
“No. I know about fried chicken, chicken and dumplings, Buffalo chicken, Barberton Chicken, we prefer that in northern Ohio.”
“Well, Hot Chicken was invented by Prince. Not that Prince with the frilly shirt. A different Prince. I’m sure he had a first name, but I can’t think of it. Well, really it was his wife. See, he was cheating on her. She found out and decided to make his dinner, his chicken, extra, extra hot. He liked it so well, he decided to sell it. Don’t worry it took about a year of Bootsies serving nothing but Hot Chicken for me to tolerate the stuff. And I’m just starving.”
“Eat up.” Hallow watched me eat like he’d be popping me in the oven afterwards. “I’ve been watching you all night. You’ve not stopped.”
“Yeah, I’m exhausted.”
“And to think I wanted you to go out tonight. I planned to fuck your brains out.”
“Yeah, guys always want to go out after work when I just want to go straight to bed.” I’d been speaking on third hand knowledge and before I realized what he just said. “Excuse me?” Had he been talking to Donette? The phrase was commonplace but through me for a loop, anyway.
“Maybe they just want to go to bed with you.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s all you’re after, a one-night stand.”
“No,” he answered in such a way I wasn’t sure, but he played it off well. “I’ll fuck your brains out all the time.”
Normally if a man said that to me, I’d run the other way, but coming from Hallow, my body wanted to jump the bar and tackle him. I let my head speak. “I’m not looking for a fuckfriend, sorry.”
“A fuckbuddy?”
“Whatever. I’m not looking for one.”
“No. I’ve had that… You’ve not even agreed to go out with me, remember.”
“Well, we’re here right now. We can’t go anywhere so we might as well find out who the killer is.” I put my empty basket into one of the bus tubs and opened a wet nap to clean my hands and mouth. I knew I’d be taking off some of the little makeup I had on in a ring around my lips and found I didn’t care. Looking at the bottom of the beer, I’d figured out why people drink.
Hallow lifted my chin. “You’re a lightweight. You ought to slow down. We have a killer to find.”
“You don’t think the killer is here.”
