“Whisky—”
“Sunshine, promise me now and mean it.”
I thought about it. I could have dinner with Hank. Then it would be done. Then I’d find a time to tel Uncle Tex my plan, I’d place the breadcrumbs for Bil y to find me and go back to Chicago with him. Then, I’d get my stash of clothes and money from Annette and, with Uncle Tex’s help, I’d disappear for long enough for Bil y to forget me and move on.
And, in the meantime, I could have a pleasant memory, a nice meal with a handsome guy.
I sighed.
“Okay, I promise to be at the hotel.”
I thought that’d be it, but his lips came down to mine, his hand at the back of my head tilting my face up and he kissed me again. It was a repeat of the first, but better (if it could be believed).
When we finished, my arms were around his neck again.
“I’m gonna have to ask you to stop kissing me,” I whispered and, even to myself, I didn’t sound very convincing with my request.
He smiled.
“I’m not gonna stop kissing you, but I’l wait until tomorrow night to do it again.” His hand fisted gently in my hair and his mouth went to my ear. Then he said, “And, as soon as I can, I’m gonna taste more than your lips.” Good God. My head went dizzy, my breasts swel ed again, my nipples got hard and my knees went so weak, I had to hold on tight.
“You’re moving too fast,” I whispered.
He kissed my neck then lifted his head and looked at me.
“Sweetheart, I intend to move so fast, you’l be dizzy,” he promised.
It was way too late for that.
Chapter Four
Eyes Wide Open
I was laying on a couch at Fortnum’s, feet up on the armrest, knees bent, eyes closed, arm over my face, not caring if the customers thought I was a nutcase. I was listening to Bruce Springsteen singing “Thunder Road” on my MP3 player, waiting for Uncle Tex to finish work and trying to forget last night.
After Hank took me back inside Indy’s house, I accepted martini number five, or Stupid Girl Martini. If memory served, I spent the rest of the evening standing next to Hank, giggling myself sil y. And, I think I might have even spent some of that time holding his hand.
Good God.
Luckily, before I could get to martini number six, or Puking Girl Martini, Uncle Tex took me back to my hotel. I laid in bed until the room stopped spinning and fel asleep.
I woke up feeling like I’d been run over by a truck. I stood under the shower until I could pry open my eyes without them burning gaping holes into my skul . I did my massive Get Ready Preparations, ful on makeup and flippy hair. I opted for jeans because everything went with jeans and I didn’t have the brain capacity to pul together a complete outfit. It was a Monday, Hank would be working and I wouldn’t run into him. I didn’t need to be Glamorous High Maintenance Girl until six thirty that night.
I topped the jeans with a fitted, white, col arless shirt that buttoned up the front and had several rows of miniature ruffles along the chest. I completed this with a Me&Ro choker on my neck and Me&Ro dangly hoops at my ears and a pair of silver bal et flats.
I stumbled into Fortnum’s after maneuvering the four lanes of traffic on Broadway and Uncle Tex, Duke and Indy al looked up at me through the line of customers.
“Shit, girl,” Uncle Tex grinned as I made it to the counter, cutting in front of everyone and not giving a good God damn.
“Coffee,” I breathed.
“Hey, I’m next,” the man at the front of the line said.
I turned to him.
“I had five martinis last night and kissed a seriously hot guy I barely knew. Twice,” I told him.
“You can go first,” he said.
Indy laughed.
I got my caramel latte and found out why Indy hired Uncle Tex. The latte was sublime.
“Uncle Tex, this is beautiful,” I told him.
“You got foam on your mouth,” he said.
I licked it off.
Duke was staring at me.
Then he looked at Tex. “Couldn’t we have, like, maybe a week before the next one rol ed in the door?”
“Gotta take life as it comes,” Uncle Tex said with a shrug.
I looked between them.
“What are they talking about?” I asked Indy, taking another sip.
She was digging in her purse. She pul ed out a pil bottle, shook out two ibuprofens and handed them to me.
“Tex tel you about Jet’s troubles?” she asked.
I sucked down the pil s with another gulp of latte. “You mean the rapist and the loan shark and her Dad being in the hospital after being thrown from a moving car?” The eyes of the customer next to me bugged out of his head.
I ignored him and Indy did too.
She said, “Wel , that al finished up on Friday. You came in on Sunday. Seein’ as you and Hank, um… seem to be, um—”
I interrupted her, “Yeah, and…?”
“Wel , I think Duke’s a little gun shy.”
“Gun shy, hel . Hank is fucked,” he looked at me. “No offense but you’re gonna run him through the mil , I can tel .