Page 72 of Ship Happens
Frankie sputters on a gulp of sweet tea. I pat her back, wishing I could choke too. To death, preferably.
“Chad’sfriends?” I hope I don’t sound as flabbergasted as I feel.
Amber waves my comment away. “Oh, I know you guys call him Ice Man or something, but he’s just my Chad.” She wrinkles her nose at him, and I want to puke.
“So, what do you do for work, Amber?” Frankie lifts a sauce-laden rib to her lips. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
Amber’s cool demeanor slips, but she straightens her mask. “Oh, just a little office work. A button masher, if you will.”
“Right,” Frankie says after swallowing a glob of meat. “Me too.”
With my knee, I nudge her beneath the table. She needs to be careful. If this woman doesn’t recognize her from their division, that misstep goes in her favor. But if this woman realizes who she is, this could blow up in our faces.
“What do you do for work?” Amber asks me. “Chad here works in construction. Oh, but you already know that.”
I want to ask if they’ve talked about favorite hobbies, but I bite my tongue.
Frankie saves the day by changing the subject. “I’m glad you two hit it off the other night. We looked for you guys but couldn’t find you.”
“Can you blame me for wanting this hunk all to myself?” She bats her fake eyelashes at Ice Pick. “I mean...lovers can’t exactly share secrets when they’re surrounded by everyone. You get what I mean, don’t you?” She turns her fluttering lashes on Frankie.
“Do you have something in your eye?” I ask, and Frankie returns the nudge.
Amber clears her throat and sips a glass of wine. That gives me an idea.
“Hey, would you two want to come to our room after this? We could share a drink and swap war stories about this guy.” I leanacross the table to pat Ice’s shoulder. “We could even play a little strip poker, if you ladies are bold enough.”
Amber’s panic bleeds through her eyes. “Oh, I don’t?—”
“Texas hold ‘em?” Ice asks. “Shit, I think we could stop by for a few hands.”
“Baby,” Amber whines quietly, as if we aren’t close enough to hear. Her wheedling voice and grabby fingers make my blood boil.
“It’s all right, sugar,” he whispers back. “Don’t you worry that pretty little head. I’ll give you all three inches when we get back to the room.”
Again, we are close enough to hear every stomach-churning syllable.
Frankie’s rib bone drops to her plate. “I think I’ve had enough of that,” she mumbles.
“Right, well, we’ll go up to the room to get things ready. See you shortly!” I say, and we squeeze out of the booth with full plates of food, our appetites destroyed.
As Frankie and I exit the dining room, I just have to hope that Ice Pick’s love for poker will overpower his newest infatuation.
“You were right, and I was wrong,” Frankie says as we step into the elevator. “We have to get him away from her. I don’t think she’s that into him.”
“Really? You don’t think so?”
She responds by pinching her lips together and scowling at me. “I said I was wrong.” Her finger flies to the elevator buttons, and she mashes our floor repeatedly. “Why isn’t this thing moving? We have to find Jim so we can get permission to?—”
“Whoa, Jim? Who said anything about involving him?”
The doors finally close, and the elevator begins to descend. “We can’t very well kill her without getting the okay first, and I definitely want to kill her. How dare she toy with his heart like that. You saw the way he looked at her. Maverick, he’s in love.”
Yeah, I saw it. That’s why I don’t want to kill her. I just want her to admit the truth to Ice Pick so thathecan kill her. I explain this to Frankie, and thankfully, she gets it.
“We should still get the okay from Jim. That way, when the mean reds take hold, Ice Pick doesn’t have to pause the festivities for permission.”
“Mean reds?”
