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“Oh. Well that’s nice.”
“Mmm…”
I’m distracted. Jake is walking away with that woman. Who is prettier than me. Am I jealous? If so, why? Jake isn’t mine. I’m not his. I’m not anyone’s. I’m free to fuck Briggs in the bathroom if I want. And I just might. Call me a slut. I don’t care.
We twirl two more times. Jake’s still gone. My mood has turned sour. This twirling is getting old. Briggs is too quiet. I miss my beer. I still want chicken wings.
“Do you offer freelance services?” Briggs’ question pulls me back. But I’m not sure I heard him right.
“Excuse me?”
“A couple of hours is all I really need. I don’t see the point in contacting the agency and having a contract drawn up for such a small amount of time.”
Confused, I stare at him. First, because his accent slipped. Which explains why I felt something was off about him from the beginning. Second, because I have no clue what he’s talking about. Then I remember I’m supposed to be Miss Sims. Who is a whore. And though I should be offended, I’m only curious.
“How much are you willing to pay?”
“Name your price.”
Well that was stupid of him to say….
“One hundred thousand dollars.”
He laughs. “No piece of ass is worth a hundred grand.”
“In my opinion, it is.”
“Funny. I didn’t think whores were allowed to have an opinion.”
This cocky sack of shit….
“Well, we are. We also give out advice when it’s needed. And I’m going to offer you some free of charge.” I stop spinning and drop my hands at my sides. His still lingers on my waist. “Keep the accent. It’s the only shot you have at getting laid.”
With his pride hurt, his arrogance comes full frontal. “I doubt that, considering I could have any woman in here.”
“And I doubt that, considering you just offered to pay me to have sex with you. Thanks for the dance.” When I move to step away, his hand that was warm and soft in mine only moments ago, wraps around my arm. He squeezes tight and I can feel his fingertips bruising the sensitive skin on the back of my arm.
I channel my inner Denzel Washington. My eyes zone in on his grip and everything else becomes a blur. I’m about to reenact a scene from The Equalizer when someone snaps his name.
“Briggs!”
His grip immediately loosens on my arm when someone snaps his name. It’s then I notice that the three men from earlier have crowded around us. But Jake isn’t here. And for some reason, that stings.
I jerk free of him and this time Briggs releases me. The men are talking to him in low voices. Telling him it’s time to go. I’m still in Denzel mode, so I’m all cool, calm and collected when I turn to walk away.
I’ve taken two steps when I hear him call out to me. Because I refuse to cower to this asshole, I spin on my heel to face him. His eyes are dark. His glare angry. He points a finger at me. When he speaks, his voice is a low growl, but clear enough for it to carry over the noisy room.
“If it weren’t for men like me, tramps like you wouldn’t even have a place in this life.”
“Yeah? Well you know what?” I pause for dramatic effect and then give him a sweet smile. “If the rabbit hadn’t stopped to shit, the dog wouldn’t have got him.”Chapter ElevenThey don’t have chicken wings.
They don’t have cocktail weenies.
No cheeseball.
No chips and dip.
Not a single fucking thing wrapped in bacon.
What kind of party is this?
A waiter sets a tray of some fancy finger food down on the table. I snatch it and make a beeline to the kitchen where Jake and I came in. The nodding guy isn’t here. But I remember the door he went through and I follow it and come to a small employee lounge.
I take a seat on a bench and set the tray of hors’ d’oeuvres in my lap. My nose scrunches at the sight of the cucumber slices, slathered in white shit, topped off with some sort of raw meat shavings and a little sprig of grass.
Gross.
“Good evening, Miss Hart.”
My head snaps up and I find Grandfather looking back at me. Great. Just another person I didn’t want to see. Well, I’m not in the mood for his shit either.
“Pee Paw Swagger. What brings you here?”
“This is my party, Penelope. Why wouldn’t I be here?”
“Okay…allow me to rephrase. Why are you slumming it back here with the hired help?”
“I thought Jake wasn’t paying you.”
“He’s not. I meant the hired help as in the kitchen staff. Not that it matters. You don’t believe me anyway.”
He studies me a minute. I don’t look away. Even though I really want to because his look is super intimidating.
