“It’s not what you think,” he whispers as he sits me down. “No need to be jealous.”
Jealous? Is that what I am? No, he’s wrong. “I’m not jealous!” I state adamantly. “George is trying to get clean, and she is a weight set to drag him down with her.”
“And she’s been his lover,” he points out, his mouth turning upwards.
The look I give him is fit to annihilate. That was a low blow. My fists clench with his words. Scowling at him, I ask, “And what does that have to do with anything?”
“You know exactly what I’m saying.”
He’s reiterating he thinks I’m jealous. I ignore his statement as I’m not ready to admit that just yet. After all, I barely know George and our relationship, as of yet, has been volatile. “What does she want?”
“Her job.” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
“Is he going to let her continue to work here?” My eyes are practically bulging out of my head as I think the unfathomable. If he lets her continue to work here, he’s fucking nuts.
“What’s it to you?” A voice comes from behind Sniper and we turn to acknowledge it. Misty is standing with her hip cocked and arms crossed over her chest.
Sniper runs a wide palm down his face. “She was just curious, Misty,” he says, but his tone is drenched with annoyance. He doesn’t like her either.
“If it pleases you,” Misty sneers, “I will no longer work here. I guess that leaves you plenty of opportunity to move in on him.” Leaning toward me, she whispers, “We just had our . . . well . . . we said good-bye.” The taunting smirk on her face validates what her wording was meant to imply. “He’s all yours, baby. But I doubt you could ever be as good as I’ve been to him.”
My mouth drops open. What a fucking skank. I hate being bitchy or catty, but I can’t help myself. Smiling pitifully at her, I say, “If I wanted him your presence wouldn’t be an issue. And if you are so good, as you say you are, why’s he letting you go? Because in the end, men don’t want skanky coke heads.”
She laughs in disbelief. I’ve one-upped her in the insult game. “You better watch your back, Char,” she warns as she steps toward me again. Sniper stands tall and watches her, wondering if she’s going to attack me.
I grin at her and as she passes by me, I say, “You look a little tense, Misty. Why don’t you go home and snort a line. Might make you feel better.”
“Charlotte!” George’s voice booms, jerking Misty’s, Sniper’s, and my gaze to his seething glare. I glare back at him. Is he mad at me? Is he defending her? His eye is still swollen, but at least it’s open now, and a deep purple surrounds it.
“Yes?” I snap back, placing my hands on my hips.
Misty smiles and continues on her way. “Bye, Charlotte,” she calls, her voice almost in a singsong tone. “George, if you need me for anything, you have my number,” she says, as she walks out.
“I believe I’d like to see you take her down, Char,” Sniper notes with a nod.
“Shut it, Sniper. Charlotte, in my office. Now!” George shouts, and I straighten my back in protest. Is this anger for me, or a symptom of withdrawals?
“I’m off the clock, boss. You can’t tell me what to do!” I stomp past him and head for the back exit, but he grabs me and yanks me in to his office. I look around, but don’t see Ike anywhere. Did he leave me?
“What the fuck was all that out there?”
“What the fuck was all this in here?” I counter. “She said you two had a good-bye fuck.” Those weren’t her exact words, but it’s definitely what she implied. “Was it good for you? To bang the woman whose boyfriend beat the shit out of you?”
“I didn’t fuck her!” he shouts. “We ended things, okay? She’s not going to work here anymore.”
“Then why’d she say it?” I ask, calmly, in an effort to rein in my anger.
George’s head rears back slightly, his anger draining from his face. Tilting his head to the side, his mouth quirks up slightly. “Are you . . . jealous?” Disbelief is rich in his voice.