Page 19 of Apex of the Curve

Dump Truck chuckled.

“You been taking lessons in manipulation from Dahlia?” I asked.

“Chess, not checkers,” she said softly and her gaze unfocused as she stared over in the direction of the bar. “And no, these particular lessons were learned a long time ago in my old life.”

I nodded, my irritation diminishing.

“Fine,” I grated out. “If I don’t come up with a better plan, or I don’t hear from her first in like a week, I’ll pay for your girls’ night or whatever.”

“Thank you!” she said cheerfully and perked up in her seat. “I’ve always wanted to do a ceramic paint night with some girlfriends. It’s just not something you do all on your own.”

I grunted and picked up my beer, taking a pretty big swallow and clearing at least a third of the glass with it. Dump Truck laughed softly at my expense and I shook my head.

Well played, Little Bird,I thought to myself. Well played.

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