Page 34 of Dirty Daria
“Two attempts on your life, in almost as many days, both unsuccessful?”
He nods in response even though the question was more rhetorical in nature than anything else. Daria comes into the hall, I drink her in. Her dress is gold lace with a nude colored lining to cover the essentials. Long sleeves, high neck, short skirt, no back, sexy as fuck.
“She’shere too?” David asks.
I raise a brow at him.
“I saw Quinn already. She wasn’t invited, so what the fuck? Do you think this is a free for all?”
Daria comes to stand by me, and I put an arm around her waist, pulling her to me.
“My invitation included a plus one. So did Reed’s. Hence Daria and Quinn.”
“What, are Reed and Quinn seeing one another now?” Tremblay asks.
“You’d have to ask him,” I answer.
“Fucking ridiculous.”
“Darling, there you are.” Laurel joins us, taking Tremblay’s hand in hers. “I was looking all over for you. We’ll be cutting the cake soon.” She reaches up to straighten his bow tie, then realizes that it’s in pieces. “Oh my, what happened to your bow tie?”
“Uh, that’s my fault,” I say before I can think too much on it.
She looks at me curiously.
“I was showing him a magic trick that went a little wrong.”
“Who are you?” She studies me in earnest. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Laurel Tremblay.” She holds her hand out. I take it mine and shake gently.
“Mack Murphy, with security detail.”
“Oh, that explains it.” She waves a hand in the air. Her way of invalidating my existence as hired help instead of invited guest. She looks to Daria, her gaze going from the top of Daria’s head, down to her feet, and back again. “And the security guard invited a guest. How sweet.” Her tone, anything but.
“Honey, let’s go check on the cake, shall we?” David takes Laurel’s hand in his and leads her away.
“She’s a bitch,” Daria says.
“It’s only fitting.”
“Agreed.”
“Let me ask you a question.” I wait for her to look at me and nod before continuing. “You ever give someone you’re going to take out a warning shot?”
“Not often, but sometimes.”
“How many times?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, one on Wednesday then another on Thursday? Just one only. Five on Wednesday, what?”
“One time, one day. And not always. Why?”
“Tremblay thinks tonight was another warning to him. Like the shots the other day.” I pause as a couple walks out into the hallway, the woman giggling and clutching at the arm of the man she’s with. Immediately wondering what it will take to have Daria giggling next to me and holding onto my arm. Not that Daria is a much of a giggler. Or an arm holder. “Something about his story doesn’t match up. He claims the guy snuck up behind him, wearing a ski mask, and attempted to slit his throat, but cut his bow tie instead.”
“His bow tie?” She gestures to her neck.
I nod to clarify. “Right in half.”
