Page 50 of Dirty Roxie
“How is it a compliment?”
“Well, it’s a term of endearment.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So, I’m endearing them to me.”
“I don’t think that’s how that works. Besides, you don’t even know them.”
“Maybe not, but they’re people, same as me.”
His phone dings with a text. “We need to get back upstairs. The natives are getting restless.” He tosses forty dollars on the table as we leave.
“Even that,” I tell him. “I don’t think you can say things like that anymore. It’s not politically correct.”
“Things like what?”
“Calling people natives,” I say.
“But they’re my people,” he argues.
“How are you so smart and so dumb at the same time?” I ask.
“Shit if I know,” he says.
“You have a good night, handsome,” the server says to Mack. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“I’m a taken man, baby doll, but if I weren’t, you’d be first on my list,” Mack says back as we exit the bar.
“Unbelievable.”
“It’s called charm, my man.” Mack slaps me on the back as we head to the elevator bay.
“That’s not charm. That’s demeaning and sexist.”
“Aw, are you jealous she didn’t call you handsome too? I’ll call you handsome if you want.”
“Fuck off, man,” I laugh.
“Love you too.”
The elevator doors open, and we slowly make our way down the hall to the suite.
Until we hear a scream.
Then we break into a run.
