Page 18 of Last First Date
“Yes,” I answer quickly.
“No.” Her word topples right over mine.
I snort, and then shake my head at this whole stupid situation. “Well, we’re leaving together at least. Right now. I’d say it’s been fun, but well, it hasn’t.” I hold out my hand to Darcy and wait for her to take it.
She gives me a look that should have zapped me to ash on impact. I’m definitely going to be waiting a while if I’m in holding out for her to be in some sort of good mood about this. I step closer to her and she finally stands up, that goddamned slit in her dress drawing sleazeball Steve’s eye like a homing signal.
“Our ride is coming right now, Miss Albrecht. It’s time to go.” I push her toward the door feigning gentleness and unconcern, but I’m seething inside. Also, I’m about thirty seconds away from punching Steve Garretson right in his stupid yacht club face.
I disliked him before today because his gaudy, show-off style of practicing law is beyond distasteful to me. He’s not even all that good at what he does, and skill matters so much more than showing off.
I’ve beaten him in the courtroom plenty of times, and I’m not afraid of him or his overly aggressive tactics. The only thing that scares me about him is his bad chunky looking highlighted hairdo, which looks like it might scuttle right off his scalp if startled.
But right now, watching him put his moves on Darcy when I know that he’s a married man with two little girls at home, I feel like I could murder him with my bare hands.
He doesn’t deserve to even talk to Darcy, let alone have any of her attention. And his wife certainly deserves better than to have him running around on her. Everything about him disgusts me.
In fact, everything about this whole night disgusts me. It’s been one mistake after another since I agreed to these stupid wooing lessons, and I should have just followed my instincts on this too. But no. Instead I’m practically manhandling Darcy out the door to make our escape from the town philanderer and another nameless gold-digger. What a night.
“Let me go,” she hisses from between her clenched teeth. “I was doing fine. Just fine.”
But I don’t let her go, and I don’t say a word to her. I don’t loosen my grip for a moment until we’re outside Cielo, and then she has the nerve to turn to me and stare at me like I’ve sprouted a second head.
“We’re done with all this wooing lessons crap, Albrecht.” I growl at her. I’m definitely looming over her now, but I’ve got to win this battle with her and cut it off before we have any more bullshit.
She bristles at my words. “Done? Oh no, no. I’ll tell you when we’re done.” She pokes me in the chest with her index finger. “One night at a crappy bar is not enough for us to be done. And besides, you’re not the boss of me.”
I grind my teeth at her snotty tone. “Obviously.” I shrug. “This whole thing is beyond messed up, and now I’m taking you home before you get into any more trouble.”
“What do you mean get into trouble?” She looks up at me, hurt flashing over her face. “How exactly do you think I messed up, Abernathy? It looked to me like everything was going exactly right from where I was.”
My lips curl up and I want to shout at her. “Oh, I’m sure it did look exactly right to you.” Disgust drips from my words, and I watch as her face falls at my ugly tone. I’m not going to yell though, no matter how angry I am.
I shake my head and settle for hauling her home in awful, heavy silence. If she’s not going to listen to anything I’m saying, then I’m way past done talking to her about it.
Darcy
What the fuck is his problem? I mean, this is completely an Abernathy problem, not my problem. Isn’t it?
I still don’t understand why he lost his shit like that at that crappy wine bar he dragged me off to. I was definitely able to get and keep that dirtbag lawyer’s attention, and wasn’t that the whole point of his stupid assignment?
But no. He’d shoved me into his car like I’d robbed the place and then dumped me at my car once we got back home without even saying a single word to me. He was livid and I still couldn’t figure out why.
I’ve never seen him so irritated with me, even when he woke up to a shaving cream beard during that last shift we had together.
That little prank was my idea, obviously. Not super original or anything, but watching him wake up looking like a sleepy, extra sexy Santa Claus was pretty funny and unsettling in that why-is-he-so-hot kind of way. I can’t help but continue to notice how deeply, panty-destroyingly fine Abernathy is ever since the calendar photo shoot, multiplied by a million since the towel affair.
What a mess. I’m his lieutenant, and I’m supposed to be whipping this station full of oddballs into shape, not playing pranks on my stupid dating-lessons coach who apparently hates me now. But all I want is to bother him just as much as he bothers me.
Besides, rookie year is supposed to suck and we all know that. And at the station where we work, it’s going to suck even more because the guys are known to be a bunch of fuck ups. If I don’t show the guys there that I’m one of them, they’d come for me next.
I push the traitorous thoughts of Abernathy from my mind. I don’t need him. Probably. I especially don’t need his help if he’s going to act like a turd when I do well as the dumb lessons he assigns.
With Operation Flirting an unqualified success, I’m finally feeling confident enough to try out my new skills on Hesse Kotner. When I call my mother to ask for his phone number, I can practically hear the giddy sound of dollar signs in her voice.
It’s not like we need the money. She’s not trying to auction me off to some random guy with a fortune all Jane Austen style, but my mother has always been clear that she thinks that it’s important for me to marry someone of a particular social class.
She always says it’s because she doesn’t want some guy just getting close to me for my money. And yeah, I get that. I learned that lesson the hard way back in high school when it turned out the guy I was seeing my junior year was busy slipping himself handfuls of twenties out of my purse every time I went to the ladies’ room. He was actually robbing me.
