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“Woman, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that it doesn’t work that way,” she grumbled, the ice in her glass clinking, signaling for a refill.
“Well, it should,” I complained.
“Need another?”
I didn’t, but I quickly changed that by finishing the rest of my drink in one swallow. While I wasn’t drunk yet, I was feeling pretty snazzy. Mark wasn’t home from work yet, but he was aware of my current mid-life crisis, so he promised to stop by the store for some more supplies on his way home.
After Rowena refilled our glasses, she said, “You know this reading will have no real substance, right? Not only are both of us on our way to being drunk, but your anger is clouding everything.”
“That’s because I’m angry,” I harrumphed. “All those years of hard work are lost and wasted because Bryant Stanton is a horrible human being.”
Rowena set the deck of cards down on the table, her face softening. “I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, Landry. However, I think this might be a good thing for you.”
“How is homelessness a good thing, Row?”
Her lips twitched. “You are not going to end up homeless,” she replied. “You are more than welcomed to stay here or with Purdie, and you know it.”
“Only because Purdie and Thaddeus could do with some free childcare,” I pointed out.
“Because watching Victor and Sibby is worse than becoming homeless?” she posed.
“Do you think that the Mafia still exists?”
Her face scrunched up in confusion. “What?”
I took another drink of my margarita before asking, “How much do you think a hit costs?”
“A Mafia hit?” I nodded. “I imagine a lot more than you can afford.”
“You know, this is 2023. You’re supposed to support and empower other women in achieving their dreams,” I griped, clinking the ice cubes in my glass.
“Fine,” Rowena sighed. “If you want to kill him, then let’s kill him.”
I straightened in my seat. “Really?”
“No, you nutbag,” she shrieked. “Are you crazy?”
“He shouldn’t be allowed to win, Rowena,” I told her, the weight of what I’d done really coming down on me. “The bad guys shouldn’t win.”
While I knew that I would eventually find a new job, that wasn’t the point. Even though my sister and Rowena were options for housing, I had enough in my savings account that I wasn’t really worried just yet. I had enough to get me through the next few months, though I’d rather not test it.
No, this was about the injustice of what Bryant had been able to get away with. He had sat in his office and lied about everything, and Ward had sided with him like my word would never be good enough next to Bryant’s. I hated it when the good guys lost, and I was that good guy in this scenario, making that bitter pill harder to swallow.
I was also very aware that life wasn’t fair. I wasn’t throwing a spoiled tantrum because I felt like I was special or deserved better. I was upset because men like Bryant Stanton held positions of power, and there were thousands more like him that were ruining people’s lives.
“I agree,” she said softly. “The bad guys shouldn’t win, but that’s life, Landry. You know it as well as I do.”
I finished off my fresh drink, handing the empty glass back to Rowena for a refill. “One more, please.”
“Just one?” she asked suspiciously. “That’s not like you.”
“I don’t want to throw up in Rush’s car when he comes to pick me up,” I admitted. “It’s an Aston Martin, and it’s very nice.”
“Oh, I bet,” she snorted, taking my glass. “How’s that going anyway?”
“He’s gorgeous, rich, grown, and knows what to do with a woman once he gets her in bed,” I chuckled a bit buzzed. “It’s going great.”
“Ooohh, do tell.”
