Page 10 of The B!tch List

It was safe to say Tate had a difficult relationship with his dad. I only knew what I’d overheard from mom and dad, but Chet Hallahan, who was a famous rock singer, cheated Kitty, Tate’s mom, out of millions in their divorce. He’d also evaded a huge amount of taxes. Tate had been instrumental in getting him caught.

“You like Jefferson?” I asked, taking a sip from my bottle of beer.

He nodded. “Yeah, I do. He’s great for Mom. Loves her to distraction, treats her like a damn queen and just as importantly looks after my little sister like she’s one of his own. I mean they’ve only been together a year but the last six months they seem to have taken it to another level.”

“He’s a good man,” I replied. “More like an uncle to me, I guess.”

“Yeah, I like him a lot. I’m glad he and mom found each other again.”

Kitty and Jefferson had been high school sweethearts until Kitty moved away to Florida. When she moved back to Dayton Valley, she was divorced, and Jefferson widowed. They pretty much got together straight away. I knew my folks loved her and thought she was great for their best friend.

“Anyway.” I changed the subject. “What’s going on with your love life? No one special?”

Tate’s brows arched. He was a good-natured boss so I knew he wouldn’t mind me asking.

“Don’t really have time,” he responded. “And like the saying goes, once bitten and all that.”

He’d had a pretty bad divorce; his ex-wife had wiped out their bank account yet still wanted more in the divorce. She hadn’t got it, but Tate was still smarting over it.

“A man has his needs though, Tate.”

We both glanced over to Penny who was carrying two plates of food toward us.

“True, Shaw, and I get by.” He nodded thanks to Penny as she laid down the plates. “So, what about you. Who scratches your itch?”

I almost dropped my bottle of beer as who should stroll into the bar but Nancy. She looked like hell, like she had earlier, but at least she changed out of her coffee-stained tee and was now wearing a red plaid shirt and jeans. Yep, not her best look but my dick still twitched with interest—fucking idiot.

Was it not bad enough that I’d run out of tampons and had to go to the store when I felt like shit? Oh, no, apparently not. The gods thought it would be funny to place Shaw in Stars & Stripes just because I’d decided I wanted fried chicken take-out for dinner. And could he trynotto look so damn sexy all the time. There he was, sitting at the bar, shirt sleeves rolled back, a bottle of beer dangling from between his thumb and forefinger and his hair all mussed up like I’d dragged my fingers through it.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath and recalled how silky his hair felt, giving myself a little quiver down below. “Stupid jerk.” Immediately, I shook my head at myself.

Stupid Jerk. Lazy, lazy, lazy, Nancy. You’ve really got to step up your game girl.

“Hey, honey,” Penny called from across the bar. “You here for the usual take-out?”

I nodded and gave a tight smile. Crap, since Minnesota had left me to go travelling, I’d obviously become a creature of habit.

“Take a load off.” Penny placed a Topo Chico on the bar, right at the space next to Shaw which was why I pulled it out and shifted it a little to the left before parking my ass on it.

“Hey, Miss. Andrews,” Tate leaned forwarded and lifted his beer bottle to me. “Thanks for agreeing to help us out with our case. Shaw said you’d be happy to make a statement.”

“No problem.” I lifted my glass and smiled. “And please, call me Nancy.”

“Well, Nancy, we really appreciate it, don’t we Shaw?”

Shaw who was looking down at his food nodded and grunted out what sounded like, ‘if we must’.

“Shaw recommended I come here tonight, so I’m guessing you agree on how good the food is?” Tate started to cut into a piece of chicken, his attention taken up by his plate.

“I do. It’s amazing. The best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

When Shaw looked up and into the mirror running the length of the bar, he smirked sending my piss straight to boiling point—again. I narrowed my eyes at him in my own reflection and pretended to gag. He then infuriated me more by poking at the inside of his cheek with his tongue, moving it backward and forward like he was sucking dick. He evidently hadn’t thought that one through. I raised my brow and mouthed silently, ‘you like dick?’ and then gave him a double thumbs up and a cheesy grin.

He choked on his food and a little light came into my life as I thought he might just keel over and die. But then he took a slug of his beer and stopped. Oh well, I guess you can’t win everything.

“You come here often?” Tate asked, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. He looked over at me and grinned. “That wasn’t a pick up line, I swear.”

We both laughed but I noticed that Shaw continued to shovel food into his mouth, seemingly disinterested in either of us.

---