“How many parrots does he have?” Her eyes narrow. “Because I count, like, five in these photos.”
“As long as the photos have the correct number of fingers…”
“He has four fingers on his right hand. I think one of the birds took it off.”
“I’m not asking.” I throw up my hands.
“Because you don’t want to know.”
I’m meetingErnie at a brewery. He wanted to take me to a fancy restaurant so that we could have a real date, a true romantic evening, but I’m trying to learn the lessons life is teaching me.
The hostess smiles at me when I step in from the cold.
“You must be Jenna. Your table’s right this way.”
He’s early; that’s a green flag.
The man who stands up from the table isn’t Ernie.
“Did you seriously catfish me again?”
Andreas screws up his mouth. “No, I’ve been following you.”
I clutch my purse. “Is this about the time-share?”
“No, it’s about the disrespect you’ve been showing me!” he shouts.
We’re getting weird looks from people.
I like this brewery. They always give Truman snacks. I don’t want to get banned from here. I don’t want to cause a scene.
So I sit down.
“Even if I wanted to give you money, which I don’t because I’ve already given you money, I don’t have any, okay? I’m about to get fired. I don’t have anywhere to live.”
“You can come live with me.” Andreas’s teeth look like he hasn’t been brushing regularly. “You know, pay it off another way. We were good, Jenna, we were—where the hell have you been? I haven’t gotten my drink order yet,” he barks at the waiter who has stepped behind me.
He peers up in the dim light of the brewery.
“You’re in my seat.” The deep voice sends a shiver through me.
“Actually, I’m not,” my rat-faced ex says. “I’m her fiancé.”
“Ex-fiancé,” I say automatically.
“This is who you let put a ring on your finger? After all that, I’m unimpressed.” McCarthy’s tone is dangerously cold.
“You owe me.” My ex hunches over the table.
“She doesn’t owe you a damn thing. Jenna, go sit in the corner. I’m going to deal with this.”
“You don’t get to just—”
McCarthy grabs the back of my chair. I hold on for dear life as he wrenches my chair away, the metal legs scraping the concrete floor, and leans over the table in front of my ex.
He’s not angry, though, or murderous. He’s got that dark glee in his eyes. He’s a wolf cornering a rabbit it’s about to eat for dinner.
“She owes me.” My ex doesn’t seem to understand that he has an apex predator bearing down on him. “She ruined me,” Andreas whines.
