Page 21 of One Life to Loathe

I slid my eyes to him. “I don’t think anybody asked you, Ed.” I had only met the man in passing once or twice before this shoot. I didn’t like him in the least…and that was before he started running his mouth.

“Honestly, there should be two types of women,” he continued, not caring in the least that he was obviously irritating me. “You should have breeders and seeders.” He smiled as if he’d said the most clever thing in the world.

Before I could tell him where he could stuff his opinion, Chad asked the absolute worst question. “What’s a seeder?”

Ed clapped Chad on the shoulder in a fatherly way. “Well, son, I’ll tell you.”

“Don’t,” I interjected. “Just … don’t.”

Ed pretended he hadn’t heard me. “Breeders are the women who should carry babies. They’re nurturing and usually have wide hips to make births easier.”

“I’m going to have to kill him,” I muttered under my breath.

“I’ll help.” Dexter didn’t look any happier than I felt about the situation.

“Seeders, however, are the women you want to keep nice and tight down there,” Ed continued. “You don’t want them to ruin the only joy they can offer by pushing a baby out of that canal. It’s never the same again. Trust me. I know.”

“Yes, don’t you have like seven kids with five different mothers?” I challenged. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to his crap. “You didn’t actually raise any of them, though, right? You just paid child support and left them behind to be raised without you.”

Ed’s eyes narrowed. He’d finally figured out that I wasn’t going to be president of his fan club. “That’s how it should be, son. Men weren’t meant to settle down. We’re supposed to be spreading our seed. That’s the way the good Lord intended.”

“I think you’ve been spreading enough crap for one day,” I replied. “While we’re on the subject, though, if you don’t stop smacking the workers on the ass, the owner of this place is going to chop your hands off.”

Ed had the gall to look wounded. “Excuse me? I don’t smack women on the ass.”

Dexter snorted into his cocktail.

As for me, I wasn’t in the mood to put up with more nonsense. “Yes, you do.” I drained half my glass before continuing. “We’ve all seen it. And listen, I get that you’re from a certain generation where that was considered okay, but it’s not okay. Keep your hands to yourself.”

Ed’s cheeks flooded with color. He was obviously embarrassed that I dared call him on the carpet. “You know what the problem with your generation is?”

“I’m sure we have a lot of problems. We don’t randomly smack women on the ass, call them ‘honey,’ and then dismiss them as if they’re trash, though.”

Levi gave me an appraising look and then reached for my glass without prompting. He refilled it without saying a word and handed it back.

“I don’t think I like your attitude,” Ed growled. “I see your reputation is earned. You just can’t get along with anybody, can you?”

“Oh, stuff it.” I downed more of my drink. “Your problem is that you think we should be in awe of your stories. We’re not though, because your stories are crap. Most of them aren’t true, and the ones that are really shouldn’t be shared with people. Those that aren’t pitying you for thinking they’re good stories are quaking in fear because you won’t keep your hands to yourself.”

Ed looked as if he might actually pick a fight with me—given my mood, I would’ve welcomed it—but instead he turned his back to me and focused on Chad. “Do you know who has a smackable ass?” he asked.

My blood was already boiling and I didn’t know why. Then he actually said it.

“That Samantha girl. She’s got an ass I’d just like to squeeze.”

I was out of my stool and in front of him, blood in my eye, before I even realized I’d made the move. “Listen to me,” I hissed, keeping my voice low so the people at the tables wouldn’t hear me. “You’re going to leave the women on this production alone.”

“Don’t you mean Samantha?” Ed taunted. “I heard they paraded you two out like show ponies to pretend you were a couple today. How is that already going to your head?”

I ignored him. “It reflects badly on all of us if you can’t just be a decent human being.”People could say the same thing about you,my annoying inner voice mused. I tamped down my frustration and forced myself to be calm. “Just don’t touch anybody but yourself, Ed. If you get kicked out of this hotel,you’re going to hold up the production. At least be a freaking professional.”

“What is it with you?” Ed complained. “You act as if I’m your daddy or something.” He scratched his cheek. “I guess it’s possible. I did get around back in the day.”

I couldn’t even be mad at him. He was just too pathetic. “Yeah, you’re nowhere near mean enough to be my father. I don’t care about your excuses either. Just stop being you and try getting consent before you touch anybody.”

Dexter chuckled. “If he waits that long, he’ll never get another woman again.”

“Right?” I nodded, laying it down like a challenge. I wanted Ed to treat it like a game. At least that way, he would try to win.

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