Page 65 of Dirty Daria
If I could, I’d kill him now. But my weapon is back at my desk. I hate him for doing this. I hate him for putting me in this position. And most of all I hate myself for not recognizing what was going on sooner. Shit, maybe both David and I deserve to die. What the fuck kind of criminal investigative agent can’t tell when women are being sold in sexual slavery right under his nose?
A worthless one, that’s who.
30
Mack
“You want another one, handsome?” Roxie asks from the other side of the bar.
“Why the hell not?” I smile at her, she winks back at me and takes my empty glass, returning with a chilled pint glass of chocolate milk. She makes it with Kahlua and some sort of chocolate liqueur in addition to chocolate syrup and milk. It’s like dessert in a glass and I’m addicted to it.
The past few nights I’ve stopped by Dirty Dar’s near to closing so I can wait for Daria to get off work and walk her to her car. I know she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and that she has a bouncer who also walks all the girls to their cars, but it makes me feel good to do it. And it means I can give her a kiss goodnight.
Things between us have not progressed beyond kissing since the interlude outside the Fun Zone in Maldives. I think in part because it freaked us both out what could have happened to Quinn while we were allowing ourselves to get carried away. And also, because it’s important to Daria to take it slow and make sure we are covered where my career is concerned. Or at least that my career isn’t in immediate jeopardy.
Quinn plops a tub filled with glasses and mugs on the barstool next to me with a huff.
“Hey, Cutie, I was just thinking about you.” I lean over and give her a kiss on the cheek.
“Were you thinking that you wanted to load all these glasses into the washer for me? ‘Cause that would be amazing.”
I laugh. “Nope.”
She sticks her tongue out at me and hefts up the tub again, heading into the back kitchen area. I take a long draw on my chocolate milk and sigh happily.
“Roxie giving you Mack-crack again?”
I smile at the sound of Daria’s voice and turn in my stool as she slides onto the one next to me. I pull her into my lap instead. “Mack-crack?”
“Yes, you love it like crack. It is your Mack-crack, no?”
I laugh. “Is that what you’re going to call it on the menu?”
She shrugs and wraps her arms around my neck. I take that as an invitation to capture her lips with mine, giving her a long and deep kiss. She wiggles her ass further onto my lap and relaxes her body into me. Her tongue dueling with mine for control, which I am all too willing to relinquish.
She pulls back after a moment and asks, “Is that a fruit in your pocket or are you happy to see me?”
“I’m always happy to see you. And it’s a banana.”
“You have a banana in your pocket?”
“No.” I kiss the top of her head. “The saying is ‘is that a banana in your pocket?’”
“I give up. These sayings are stupid.”
“I agree.”
“And they never make sense. Why would anyone put a banana in their pocket? It would squish. And it is not possible to rain cats and dogs, am I right?
“You are right.”
She nods and slides back onto the stool next to me. “I need maybe ten more minutes and you can walk me to my car. The girls are closing up on their own at eleven.”
I look at my watch, a little over an hour from now. I like it when she delegates more to them and takes time for herself. “I’ll be here.”
From my stool near the back corner of the bar, I can see the entirety of the place. The servers hustling to collect orders, Quinn running around grabbing empty bottles and dirty dishes, the diehards out on the dance floor trying to squeeze in a few last songs.
Daria hasn’t mentioned if the girls have anything going on tonight after the bar closes. Not that she always tells me who they are watching or why. But I figure now that we are back together, she can be more open with what she’s doing.
