Page 74 of Dear John

“So sexist,” I hissed.

“If you’re going to drag the bartender into this, how about giving him a little perspective?”

“From you? I’m not sure that’s a thing.”

Kavanaugh ignored me, turning to the bartender. “Say you had a bad feeling in your gut, but not proof anything was going to happen. And your girlfriend had a really important meeting that could be life-altering. Would you tell her about it just before the meeting and scramble her nerves or would you hold off and dig for more information, meanwhile protecting her and making sure she could get through the meeting without worrying someone was trying to kill her?”

“Ooh! Again, I know this one!” Fox said, jumping up and down. Anna shoved a bag of Funyuns at him to shut him up.

The bartender scratched the back of his head. “I gotta tell you, I never dealt with anyone trying to kill my girlfriend before. But if I had…yeah, I think I would be on his side.”

“What?” I gasped. “He lied to me!”

“Before a big meeting. Sorry, I’m on his side.”

Narrowing my eyes at the man, I pulled out the big guns. “Yeah? Well, what would you say if I told you that he followed me to the meeting and was trying to sabotage it the whole time?”

His eyebrows shot up as Kavanaugh started to defend himself. “I wasn’t trying to sabotage it!”

“You practically accused him of having ulterior motives for hiring me!”

The bartender again looked to Kavanaugh.

“You should have seen the floor he was going to take her to. It was all under construction. There were plastic tarps and power tools everywhere! It was a serial killer’s paradise!”

“Agreed,” Fox nodded. “Tarps come in very handy, and power tools, if you’re into that kind of thing. I prefer a good pair of pliers.”

The bartender did a double take at Fox, then turned back to me. “I guess I would have to side with him. It sounds dangerous.”

“Dangerous if your job is to look for that sort of thing,” I scoffed. “To anyone else, it was a man showing me around the new office space.”

“All alone, where he could grind you into little bits,” Kavanaugh continued.

“They had a grinder?” Fox asked excitedly.

“Not that I saw, but I bet if we went back there, we’d find a tarp on the floor with tools laid out to hack her to bits.”

“Who are you guys?” the bartender asked.

I took a sip of my drink, waving him off. “They’re all superheroes.”

“Men in tights?” the bartender grinned.

“We arenotmen in tights,” Kavanaugh exclaimed, sounding very offended.

“I could totally be a superhero. Maybe Superman or Batman.”

“Or Deadpool,” Kavanaugh scoffed.

“Yes!” Fox shouted, jumping up from his stool. “That’s me! Do you want to see my moves?”

I leaned past him and glared at Anna. “You know, for a girl’s night, this really sucks.”

“Drink your margarita,” she retorted, not caring in the least that she dragged me out here to suffer through a night at the bar with my so-called boyfriend.

“You know, the next time you want to hang out, I’m going to take you someplace you’ll hate.”

“I can guarantee by the time the night is over, you’ll never want to talk to me again.” She raised her glass and grinned at me. “Cheers.”

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