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“Everything is perfect at home.” I looked at my watch. “Okay, that’s it for today. See you Wednesday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Bett said, glancing at my right bicep and then my groin before doing her best as a geriatric to walk seductively past me.
Brandon came up behind me and slapped my shoulder. “The old bats are shameless!” he said, chuckling. His expression turned serious. “When’s your next client?”
“Uh, twenty minutes.”
“Come to my office for a sec, would ya?”
I bristled. “Actually, I was going to run an errand on my break. Is it important?”
“I was just going to apologize for coming over unannounced, and ask if you and the wife would like to do dinner one night?”
“The day you came over was my last early day for a while. I’m working late the rest of the …” I trailed off, realizing too late my mistake.
“Gotcha. No worries, brother. We’ll figure it out.” He looked around for anyone who might be listening. “Hey, so … that fight, on the news.”
“What about it?”
“I hear you were there. I thought I should warn you. I was at poker night at Sig Tau and Parker was there. Losing. Drunk. Running his mouth to sound cool. You know how he is.”
“Warn me? About what?”
He grew serious. “He said that report in the school paper was bullshit.” After a few seconds he laughed once. “I mean, that’s what he said. He didn’t pull out any proof or anything. He said he was wishing someone would rat you out.” He made a face. “He’s too pussy to do it.”
“I wasn’t there, man. I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
Brandon smirked. “I mean, if you were, there’d be a hundred witnesses. People had their phones out.”
I glowered at him. “They can’t have proof if I wasn’t there.”
He grinned. “Sure. But ya know, if you need to talk about it, I’m here for you.”
I stared at him for a minute. “Yeah, I’ll uh … I’ll talk to Abby about dinner.”
“Yeah, yeah, you do that. Not sure if Becca can come, though, she’s been exhausted. I’ve been steering clear of the house. Christ, she’s been so damn whiny. I thought their bodies were built for that shit.”
“By shit you mean carrying another human being in your body for the better part of a year? Vomiting? Exhaustion? Your body growing in ways that shouldn’t be possible? That shit?”
“Yeah. Women have gotten soft. Back in the day, they pushed out their crotch fruit while running from saber tooth tigers.”
“You saying you’d prefer a smelly cave woman, Brandon?” I asked.
He laughed so hard he bent over and grabbed his knees. Then he stood up, straight faced. “Nah, I like the college girls.”
Before I could react, he walked off.
I tried to stare a hole into the back of his head before heading to the back to the line of tall, black employee lockers to grab my helmet. I reached for the lock, input the code and then pulled. Rage took over and I slammed it shut. It bounced open so I slammed it again, paused, and then rammed my fist into the metal, creating a dent. My face compressed.
This isn’t me anymore. Why am I letting that stupid fuck get under my skin?
I touched my forehead to the locker, breathing hard, and pressed my damp palms against the black paint. I could feel beads of sweat forming on my hairline.
He’s definitely up to something, but what?
I grabbed my helmet, shut the locker and made a beeline for the front door. As soon as I got to my bike, I pulled out my phone.
The sun was beating down on me, and I felt my shirt begin to dampen. I was already pissed, my skin on fire before I’d even left the locker room. Now I felt like I was about to overheat.
