Page 81 of Mayhem and Minnie

Alpha Academy.

Lead Instructor, Paul Barnes.

“I can recognize heartbreak from a mile away. I can help.” He winks.

He fucking winks.

“Is that so?” I drawl.

Great. Just what I needed. A fucking pick-up artist trying to teach me how to woo women. Granted, I might need some lessons on that front. But the last person I’d consider learning from is fucking mister gelled hair over here.

I bet that hairstyle alone acts as a repellent to all women.

“Tell me what the problem is,” he continues, giving me that slimy salesman smile.

“You’re rather confident it’s about a woman,” I note.

“There are only two things that bring a man here at this hour. Women and money. And I don’t think it’s money you’re trying to forget.” He winks, again.

I suppose that’s not a hard assumption to make. That it happens to be correct is pure luck.

When I don’t speak again, he continues.

“You don’t have much experience with women, do you?”

I don’t reply, merely look at him.

Fuck. Do I have the word inexperienced tattooed on my forehead?

I hate people.

“You’d be surprised just how many good-looking and successful men have trouble getting the woman they want. Especially them, I would say, since they have no way of knowing if a woman is with them for their money or themselves.” He keeps going as he takes a swig of his drink.

“Yeah, well, I don’t have that problem,” I mumble under my breath.

I look at my glass. It’s barely touched. Alas, I don’t think drinking is for me. I’m about to get up and leave this lunatic when he speaks again.

“Ah, I see.” He chuckles. “Is she not willing then?”

I freeze. Something about his tone rubs me the wrong way.

“What if she’s not?” I ask, slowly turning to him.

His lips curl up. Leaning in, he whispers, “I can fix that, too.”

“And how would you do that?”

He carefully assesses his surroundings before he speaks.

“A few drops in her drink when she’s not looking and she’ll be putty in your hands,” he whispers. “I have a new product that’s even more effective than the old stuff on the market.”

My blood grows cold.

He’s talking about date rape drugs, out in the open. We’ve barely exchanged a few words and he’s already trying to sell me this shit. If that’s the case, he must have done this countless times before. His delivery is smooth, his speech rehearsed.

Fuck.

“Color me intrigued,” I answer slowly.

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