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“Guac?”
“You said you like Mexican. I made you chicken fajitas.”
I blink.
“I hope that’s okay. That’s what I had on hand for ingredients. I put a paper in there with my cell number on it. We haven’t exchanged numbers yet so if you could put it in your phone and then text me so I’ve got you in my phone that’d be good. I’m grocery shopping this afternoon so if you have anything you’d like, feel free to let me know in the text. Otherwise I’ll try to wing it. Please bring that home and leave it where I can find it for tomorrow’s lunch.”
“You don’t have a credit card yet, do you want…” I lean sideways so I can fish my wallet out.
“I’ve got it. In fact, I’ve got the groceries this week. They’re on me. Or Carly, really, but I’ll be paying her back.”
I stare.
“Just my way of saying thanks for giving me a chance,” she adds.
Her shoulders jiggle as she scoffs, then she shoots me a dirty look. “And don’t choke on your thanks or anything. Have a good rest of your day. I’ll make sure dinner is ready by five thirty.”
She goes to leave, but collides with a redhead in the doorway.
Fuck. No.
That redhead.
“Oh,” Jada says to Sienna Greer. “Sorry.” And then Jada rears back with a weird look on her face.
Recognition?
“Uh,” Sienna returns. “Yeah. Excuse you.” She smooths out her skirt and breezes by Jada, eyes on me.
And Sienna is dressed head to toe in designer clothes, carrying a bag that probably cost her father five-grand. She walks like everyone has eyes on her, like things can finally get started now that she’s arrived. The bitch thinks her shit doesn’t stink and every eye just has to be on her and only her. She drops her bag on my desk and rounds the desk.
“Austin. Hot stuff,” she greets and opens her arms.
Jada shoots me a dirty look and then she leaves.
My focus moves to the bitch standing over me. I stand up and look down at her.
“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve. I suggest you turn around and fuck off right now.”
She smirks and then rolls her eyes.
“Austin, Austin… we need to chat.”
This ought to be good.
She continues. “My father called and said you’re talking about pressing charges against me. Austin, I don’t know what on earth you drank that night before we ran into one another or how you think things went, but you were all over me.” She sits on the edge of my desk, shoving my laptop back.
“And I enjoyed every minute of it,” she adds, opening her legs wide, giving me a view of red lace panties.
She smiles.
“I had a drug test,” I say.
She tries to hide the flinch behind what might be a very convincing poker face, but not to me, because I know this bitch can lie. I’ve known her since we were kids and I’ve watched her practiced lies more than once in my life. More than twice. She used them to get out of shit with her parents, with other authority figures, to get what she wanted with my brother on more than one occasion, too. And she’s a mean girl. I’ve seen her reduce teenage girls at our parents’ country club and our private school to tears.
“I did not drug you, Austin. That’s ridiculous. Maybe someone else did.”
“I’ve just hit record on my phone,” I say, setting it on the desk. “So, Sienna Greer, you know this conversation is being recorded by me, Austin Carmichael. Understand?”
“Don’t be so silly. I don’t know how many people served you drinks that night, Auz, but probably several since you were at a wedding reception, and-”
“I want you to leave, now, and I’m also telling you I’m pressing charges. I was gonna have you arrested in San Diego, but since you’re here, you might want to turn yourself in to the cops.”
“I’m doing no such thing. I don’t know what you’re pressing charges for since you were the one that came onto me, unhappy that the girl you liked showed up at Aiden’s wedding with her fiancé who beat you up.”
“Really, Sienna?”
“Really, Austin. You approached me at that bar. You were feeling sorry for yourself with your broken heart and your black eye, and I freely admit, I was broken up about Aiden getting married, so you and me wallowed in the bottle together. We got drunk and then we had sex. End of story. If you took drugs, that’s on you or if it was slipped to you, it had to be on some bartender or other scammer that maybe hung out waiting for an opportunity to drug you so they could rob you or something. That’s not on me. In fact, if that happened to you, it’s a good thing we were together because maybe you’d have woken up in a bathtub with vital organs missing if I hadn’t been there.”
