Page 5 of A Different Kind of Hooker

“You mean, the workstation that will no longer be mine in a week?” Coops asked, saccharine dripping from her lips, making me bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

Knowing that she couldn’t win where Coops was concerned, Dolly said, “Just save the gossip for break time, Coops.”

I couldn’t hold in my laugh when Coops saluted her.

“She needs to get laid,” Coops muttered as Dolly stormed off to lick her wounds.

I slid my eyes back towards my best friend. “Not everything can be solved with sex.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, my friend,” she argued. “Sex is the answer to anything that ails you.”

“Pretty sure that’s not true.”

“It is,” she insisted. “That’s why you’re going to come over for a barbecue on Memorial Day weekend.”

I was already shaking my head. “Nope.”

“His name is Milton Pra-”

“Milton?”I echoed, my eyes wide. “What is he? Eighty?”

Coops scowled. “Milton is a perfectly respectable name, Zee.”

“Yeah, for an eighty-year-old,” I replied.

“He works for the city as an assistant DA, and-”

“Nope,” I repeated.

“-Ranger says he’s a great guy,” she went on, completely ignoring me.

I eyed her. “Isn’t that a bit of an oxymoron,” I retorted.

“Ranger’s an attorney,” she deadpanned.

“Yeah, a defense attorney, and one that does more pro-bono work than all other lawyers combined,” I reminded her. “Ranger is a good lawyer because he’s a goodman.”

“You’re judging,” she accused.

“Well, after what happened the last time that you tried to set me up, I think I’m entitled to be a little judgey, don’t you think?”

Coops scowled again. “That was a one-off.”

“It’s only a one-off when it happens once, Coops,” I pointed out. “When it happens more than once, then you just have bad taste in men.”

She grinned. “I’m going to tell Ranger you said that.”

“Tell him, and then I’ll tell him about your plan to take your life’s savings to Atlantic City,” I fired back.

“It’s one-”

“Nope,” I repeated again.

“Fine,” she huffed, rolling her chair back to her workstation. “When you end up with only fifty cats to keep you company, don’t blame me.”

“I won’t,” I promised.

Now, while I had nothing against dating per se, blind dates were the worst, and I had no desire to hit that particular trail again. Though I missed sex-very much-the last thing that I needed in my life was pity sex. I’d rather stock up on batteries.

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