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Precious could tell I was turned off. Then again, she should’ve realized that from jump street.
She stroked my arm. Normally, if I was out on a date and a woman stroked my arm, I’d be aroused. But I didn’t choose her as a date. In fact, I would never have chosen her for a date; even if I’d gone twenty years without a woman in my bed and had no other option than a blowup doll.
“Yardley, since we’re done eating, you want to go sit over at the bar? That way we could talk in private.”
We both had food remaining on our plates. Mine was definitely going back to the kitchen that way. Still, I had no intention of going over to the bar with her.
“Precious, I’m fine right here.”
I glanced over at Felix and Mona. They were looking uneasy and whispering to each other.
“You guys don’t need to move to the bar,” Felix said, jumping up from the booth and tossing a fifty on the table. “That should cover our half of the bill. Mona and I are going to head back to my place.”
That did it! I was going to cuss his ass out for sure. First, the set-up with a floozy and now he wasn’t even paying the entire bill? It was going to be on when I caught up to him in private.
“Felix!” I lashed out at him.
Felix kept grinning at me nervously while Mona scooted over to the edge of the booth and got up, smoothing out the bottom of her tan dress. At least she had some clothes on, unlike her cousin.
Mona touched me on my shoulder. “You don’t mind dropping Precious off, do you, Yardley? Of course not. You’re always the gentleman. I already gave her a key.”
Do I have a choice? “I guess not, Mona.”
Felix reached out to shake my hand. I grabbed it tight, trying to cut off his circulation.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, man,” he said in agony, yanking hard until I finally loosened my grip.
They disappeared out the front door of the restaurant and into the night.
“You ready?” I asked Precious.
“You mind if I finish this drink first?”
“No, not at all.” I searched for the waitress. I needed another beer myself.
“Isn’t this one of those cars where you can put the top down?” Precious asked, settling into my black Porsche 911 convertible.
“Yes, it is. It’s a convertible.”
On top of everything else, I began to wonder if Precious had a frequent rider pass for the little yellow school bus. Who doesn’t know the difference between a convertible and a hardtop?
“Cool. Maybe we can put the top down so my hair can blow in the wind.”
I tried to suppress a laugh. As stiff as her hair was, we could’ve sped through a windstorm at ninety miles per hour and it wouldn’t have budged.
“What year is it?”
“It’s a ninety-eight.”
I started my car and took off before I gave it a chance to warm up. I couldn’t end the night fast enough. I still had a good thirty-minute drive to Mona’s place out in Forestville, Maryland.
“Ninety-eight? I thought you’d have a newer model car with all the money you make.”
“How much money do I make?” I asked, picturing Mona dishing out the dirt on me over a bowl of heavily buttered microwave popcorn.
“I don’t know. Mona said you were getting paid.”
I bet she did. “So when you were working, what did you do?”
