Hold On

Nevertheless, I took it off.

I then went to the kitchen and got my hangover cure-all: two ibuprofen, two migraine pills (caffeine and aspirin), one Tylenol. I sucked that back, then power-slammed a huge glass of cold water. After that, I grabbed a Diet 7UP, made a pot of coffee, and hit the shower.

I did the hair gig. The makeup gig. The clothes gig. The jewelry gig.

Once ready, I called a taxi.

I could walk to J&J’s from my house, but I wasn’t going to do that, and not because I was wearing high-heeled boots. I could walk a mile in high heels. But the taxi ride would only cost five dollars, and I wasn’t doing what I was going to do with the hangover hovering and my energy zapped from hoofing it to the bar.

Or the station.

I sat in the taxi, knowing what I was about to do was a risk. A huge one, and not one I’d taken in years.

Then again, I hadn’t let anyone in in order for there to be a risk to take.

Not to mention, even before I built my shell, I’d never known with absolute certainty like I knew right then, that it was a risk worth taking.

I had to do it. I had to make that statement. I had to communicate without delay where I was. I was not going to make the same mistake as the stupidest bitch on the planet.

I was going to share what needed to be shared.

That being, I didn’t just like getting laid by Garrett Merrick last night.

I liked him.

And if this was our beginning, I was all in.

The taxi let me out in front of J&J’s, and since I knew the driver—he drank at the bar and he’d given me a ride more than once—I tipped him one hundred percent on the five dollar ride.

I didn’t go to J&J’s or through it to get to my car in the back.

I went to Mimi’s Coffee Shop.

I bought two lattes and two of her blueberry muffins with the sprinkles on top.

Luckily, my girl Mimi was in the back, baking, so I didn’t have to take time to chat. Two of the kids she employed were manning the counter—one who was a cheerleader at the high school, and the yin to her happy-go-lucky, my-life-is-golden yang—one who, this time, had green hair and, if I was right, two new piercings.

I got the stuff, balanced the tray of coffees and the bag, and left.

I hit the sidewalk and headed down the block to the station.

I made it there, climbed the steps, pushed through the door, and saw Kath at the reception desk.

Her eyes got big when she saw me.

“Hey, Cher!” she cried.

“Hey, Kath.” I smiled at her and jerked my chin up the stairs that led to the bullpen behind her. “Merry up there?”

She shook her head.

From her seat at the reception desk at the ’burg’s PD, she knew it all before anyone but the cops knew it. She also drank at J&J’s, so she knew me. And, of course, she knew Merry.

She’d seen me shooting the shit with Merry, so she also knew we were tight.

But more, she knew Merry wouldn’t go for me. Merry went for a lot of tail since he’d left Mia; however, I was not the kind of tail he went for.

So she wouldn’t have any thoughts about why I was there…at least not the correct ones.

“He’s out back,” Kath didn’t hesitate to tell me. “Mike needs a ride. Think Rees has his truck and Dusty’s doin’ somethin’ and needs hers, so Merry took off to go pick him up.”

Shit.

“Left about two seconds ago, so you could still catch him,” she went on.

I nodded, turning and moving swiftly back to the front door, calling, “Cool. Thanks. See you later.”

“Later, babe,” she called back.