Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
I kept my eyes on the woman then leaned over and said, “It’s 3:00 a.m. Why is it so busy?”
Connor’s snicker warmed my ear. “What, you think they shut at 7:00 p.m.? You come at four, get the early bird special, and head on home with a skip and a whistle?”
He was mocking me. I shouldn’t have been laughing. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Connor ordered drinks and, yeah, I was here with the hot guitarist from Left Turn but my attention was solely on the woman on stage. I had a shot and this time, I didn’t—barely—flinch.
When the pretty lady undid the sides of her thong and it fell to the floor, my head whirled to Connor and my mouth gaped. “Oh my God!” I couldn’t stop laughing and Connor bit his tongue at my excitement. I pointed at her. “No hair!”
Connor tipped his head back and howled with laughter.
When I glanced down at my jean-covered privates, Connor inclined into me. “You got a bush, baby? That’s so ‘70s. Retro. You’re wild.”
Downing another shot, I jerked my chin toward the stage. “Do guys like that?”
“I don’t know about other guys, but I like that. Nothing worse than eating pussy and pretending you don’t got a hair in your mouth. I mean, it’s not enough to make my dick soft but it kind of kills the mood.”
Hmm. Interesting. “Right.”
Two hours passed and we were still there. Majority of the crowd dispersed and there were only a handful of people left. A new woman was on stage and when Connor started to catcall, I did too. But mine differed slightly from his.
“Yeah, baby. Shake that ass!” This was Connor.
“Take it off, but only if you want to!” That was me.
“Nice tits!”
“You are an impressive woman!”
“Damn, girl. That pussy looks tight!”
“My opinion of your body is irrelevant because you’re a strong woman and you don’t care what I think!”
Connor was dying of laughter and when the woman on stage winked at me, I turned to him, stunned. “Give me some money!”
Without hesitation, he pulled out his wallet, took out a bill and handed it to me. When I saw it was a ten, I glared and pointed at that woman. “You think she’s worth a tenner?” I scowled. “You cheap bastard.”
He snatched back the bill with a frown and pulled out another. I stood, moved to the stage, and held out the paper. The woman got onto her knees, crawling sensuously over to me. When she popped her hip in my direction, I gently placed the fifty-dollar bill in her panty line and rambled, “I just want to say you’re really pretty and very good at your job, and I hope you have a nice night.”
She pulled back, clearly surprised. “Thank you. You’re so sweet.”
“I know you’re not wearing any clothes, but can I hug you?”
She smiled as if I were the cutest thing in the world then bent down and put an arm around me, hugging me briefly.
My night was made. I walked over to Connor and grinned. “Okay. We can go now.”
He put his arm around my shoulders and we left the club in the wee hours of the morning.
And Connor was right.
We had fun.
Chapter Fourteen
Everlong.
Emmy
The suite was empty and, in the stillness, I thought about Nanna.
Guilt ate away at me.
It had been days since I called to check in. I dialed and put the cell to my ear.
“St Jude’s. How many I direct your call?”
“Good morning. I was just hoping to speak to my nanna, Fay Aldrich. She’s in 109.”
“Please hold.” Soft music played and I waited, and when she came back on the line, all she said was, “Putting you through,” and the phone started to ring again.
“Hello?”
I smiled instantly. Her voice had always been my saving grace. “Hi, Nanna.”
Nanna hesitated. “June, is that you, dear?”
My heart stuttered and my face fell. “Uh, no, Nanna. It’s Emily.”
June, my mother, had been gone for years.
“Oh,” she said, sounding placidly perplexed. “That’s nice, dear.”
Then silence.
I cleared my throat and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“I’m very well but somebody keeps breaking into my house.”
Oh no. Not again. “Why do you say that?”
“That man is back, the one who knocks on my window at night. And my clothes are being stolen.”
My heart sank. “Oh my, that’s terrible.” There was no point trying to reason with a dementia patient. They believed what they believed and telling them otherwise often caused undue distress. “Maybe I can talk to somebody about that for you.”
“Please do.” Her voice was weak. “When are you coming to get me, June bug?”
My eyes closed and sadness took me. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying.
Nanna was getting worse.
Voice unsteady, I told her, “As soon as I can, okay?” I felt like scum when I openly lied. “I promise.”
“Okay, dear. I’ll see you tomorrow.”