Page 25 of Pragma
“Do you expect me to think you want this?” I ask her.
“I’d receive some fat bonuses if I go along with it.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
She puckers her lips. “You aren’t really sorry. This deal seems to be off, but that doesn’t mean I can’t gain anything from this meeting.” Her eager eyes move back to River. “Who’s the sexy grump next to you? He looks, mmm, delicious, radiating an air of extreme…danger.” Her gaze falls on his burned hand lying on the pristine tablecloth.
“What’s with the flattery fest?” I grit my teeth as I see River looking at her as well.
“You’re the loyal shadow of the Mad Dog. River, right?” She gives him an inviting smile.
“You did your homework, Tami.” Does he soundimpressed?
“A person with such potential shouldn’t be relegated to bodyguard status.”
I feel the tips of my fingers ache when I hear people talking about River as a mere bodyguard. Only I can fuck with him about it because the reality is that not one label fits him, but all of them at once do. Right hand, loyal shadow, bodyguard, adviser, the only person I’d trust with my life, my most precious friend. He’s someone who sticks by me even when I’m wrong. Even if facing certain death, he’ll still stand near me, ready to take my place. How can I possibly summarize all that in a measly word? But I’ll add to the pile very soon, he’ll need a more intimate label.
My thoughts are pushed aside as I get back to the present, unfortunately to see her pick the cherry from her cocktail glass and place it on her tongue, holding onto the stem as she closes her lips around it. It’s like watching the lousy start of a porno. I feel the urge to turn the scene to a murderous one as I imagine myselfhelpingher choke on it.
She chuckles while chewing on that damn cherry.
“The marriage doesn’t have to be binding, only legal. We can do whatever we want behind closed doors.” She is obviously talking to me, but the leering look is all for River.
“Still not fucking interested,” I hiss.
“Maybe not you.” Her gaze slides slowly, too slowly, over River like she’s X-raying his fucking chest.
It’s time to unleash my claws. “That outdated shade of lipstick won’t look good around his dick, I can assure you. He’s into a morenaturalcolor.”
I feel River’s intense stare on the side of my face. Finally, he remembers I’m here. I sniff with irritation.
She clicks her tongue in reply, finishes her drink, and then stands. She rounds the table only to bend near River, showing off the high curves of her voluptuous chi-chis as she slips a business card into his high coat pocket. Then the bitch lays a kiss right on his lips.
“Looks good on his mouth though.” She winks at me as I glare with blazing hate in return. River’s hand on my arm stops me from hurting her. But I don’t loosen the grip on the knife handle I grabbed from the inner side of my jacket.
As she moves to the door, she adds over her shoulder, “Call me if you are…interested.”
I suddenly feel like a feral animal who’s being poked with a damn stick. The bitch is quite the multitasker, hitting on River while taunting me.
“I’ll make her bleed for this. Nobody touches you!” Anyone’s hands on River doesn’t sit right with me. Those fake lips? I’ll deflate them with my fist.
I shove the chair backward and stand up, yanking my jacket off.
“Since when?” He has a questioning brow raised.
“Since fucking always! The nerve of that fucking—” I’m looking for the right insult when River says, “Tami.” His toneless voice is the only thing that stops me from finding the bitch and yanking every hair from her head.
“You sounded all cozy and shit! Why the fuck did you call her by her name?”
“She asked.”
Asked.“Since when do you do what other people tell you to? From now on, she’s Miss Bitch to you or…‘Hey you bitch!’” I clip, annoyed to no end by the fact that I can’t find a good insult for that…bitch.
“You plan to see her again?” There’s something growly in his deep tone that makes my hair stand.
I move closer to him, he’s still sitting in his chair. “Sure. With the purpose of making her bleed.” I raise the sleeve of my sweater to his lips. “Wipe your mouth. Can’t stand that fucking shitty lipstick on you.”
He looks at me silently for a moment. “I can use the tablecloth.”
