Page 30 of The B!tch List

A hand was held up in front of me. “You know for an educated man you sure talk like Jeremy Brenton at times.”

“No way, how the fuck dare you?” I glanced around the bar, worried someone may have heard her.

Thankfully, everyone was too busy taking advantage of Penny’s happy hour. I was relieved because no one wanted to be likened to Jeremy Brenton. He was in our class in high school and was the biggest douche on the planet. The guy carried the panties of whichever girl he was dating in his jeans pocket and regularly used them to mop his brow in gym class.

“You know he’s working at a strip joint in Middleton Ridge?” I asked, totally pissed at her.

“No way.” Nancy sat back on her stool. “Who the hell would pay to watchhimstrip?”

“No one,” I replied, picking up my beer and rolling my eyes. “He’s the janitor.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” She eyed me warily. “You think you’ll be okay? You think Tate will help you get it fixed?”

“I hope so.” I swigged back the last of my beer,hopingthat myhopewasn’t misplaced. “Anyway, less of my crap, what’s made your piss so sour?”

“Ugh, Mrs. Baker.” She screwed up her face and pretended to gag. “She’s being a total bitch to me. Ever since I agreed to testify for Mrs. Ranger, she’s just taken every opportunity to pull me up on my work, and be basically, well… a bitch.”

I’d never liked Annie Baker. She’d always been a crotchety old buzzard who wasn’t so hot on little kids having fun. Which was pretty shitty because she owned the only preschool in Dayton Valley.

“You know she made Carter sit facing the wall once?” I offered.

“What did he do? Pull some girls pigtails or something?” Nancy laughed and her face went from pretty to just plain beautiful.

“Nope.” I shook my head. “He spoke during quiz night.”

Nancy screwed up her brow and she still looked cute. “What at preschool? ”

“No, you idiot.” Now it was my turn to laugh. “In here, the summer before he knocked up Bronte. We were in here having a drink and the quiz was going on, and Carter asked what we were all drinking. I mean everyone knows you don’t talk during quiz night.”

“What like fight club?”

I rolled my eyes and tried not laugh. I couldn’t have her thinking she was fucking funny. “Yeah, just like fight club.”

“Why come in here then? If you can’t talk on quiz night what a shit idea to come in here for a drink. Why would you do that?”

“Duh.” I shrugged. “You get free grilled cheese sandwiches at the end of the night.”

She thought about it for a few seconds and then nodded. “Yeah, I get that. When is the next quiz night, because I’ll be right here!” She stabbed a finger on the table and when she wobbled a little, I knew it was probably time for us to quit drinking. “And you know what,” she continued. “I will be talking.”

Laughing, I reached for my bottle. “Imagine how fucking pissed she’ll be when you open your pre-school.”

“Well I won’t if Ruthie gets the old bank.” Narrowing her eyes on me, Nancy made a small growling noise. “You know, your girlfriend, Ruthie.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, Nancy.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. I forgot you’re just ‘banging her’.” She did air quotes and giggled.

“Ruthie likes people to think we’re dating. She’s always grabbing me when people are watching or if we happen to see each other in public. For me it’s more a mutual gratification thing and it hasn’t happened for a while.” Not since I’d last ‘banged’ Nancy seemingly, but I didn’t mention that. “Anyway, Tate says I have to help you get the building, so it’s practically yours. I’m that good.

“Yeah, about that,” she replied, picking at the table with her thumbnail. “I’m not sure it’s in my best interest to have Ruthie’s…whatever you are…working on my behalf.”

“Why the hell not?” I asked. “And let me be clear, I am not Ruthie’s anything. No way. No how, not ever.”

“It’s a conflict of interest though. Like I said you’re having sex with her. What if you let slip something and she uses it to get the building?”

I shifted in my seat to fully face her. “It won’t happen because I’m a professional. I promise you; we barely talk.”

Nancy snorted. “Will that be because she’s a grade A bimbo?”

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