I am pretty sure I gasp when I realize it’s Wannabe-Ken who looks pissed, and drunk.
“What’s up, Gumby-slut. Just putting it out there, huh? I understand now why you were so hostile at my little joke. You’re a dyke.” He snickers. Before he even gets a chance to look toward his friends for their praise, I grab his pinky finger from around my bicep and wrench it backwards, dropping him to his knees. He screams out but I don’t let go.
“No, actually, I’m not a lesbian. However, little girly-men like you make me rethink that. You probably spend more on your facials than I do on my wardrobe. Don’t fucking touch me again or I’ll rip your dick off.” I throw his hand in front of him. He jumps to his feet, face bright red once again, and stalks toward the bar where my manager is sitting. Shit.
“Carson, I need to see you please,” I hear as I walk toward the exit. Damn it.
I turn and walk toward the bar. “Yeah, Jack. What’s up?” I ask, knowing full well he just saw that little interaction with Ken.
“Carson, do you have any idea who that guy is that you just assaulted?” he starts with his eyes on shitstick over at the other end of the bar.
“Ken?” I ask, trying really hard not to laugh.
“That’s the owner of The Friedmont’s kid, Jerrod. My suggestion is you go over and apologize to him before he runs to Daddy and narcs you out. Seriously, Car.” He shakes his head.
“Seriously, Jack? He insulted me earlier while I was working, in front of patrons, and then grabs me hard enough to leave bruises on my arm AFTER I got off work. I’m not apologizing for shit. That kid needs his ass kicked. If I weren’t in this bar, I would do it myself. I, however, love my job and only did enough to his fucking pinky finger to get him to let go of me. If the big man wants to fire me for that, so be it,” I explain, then turn and walk toward the door.
As I pass ‘Ken’, I see him smirking like he got me in trouble. So, because I’m drunk and can’t help myself, I walk up to him smiling, stop right in front of him with our chests almost touching, run my finger down his chest as sensually as I can, lean to his ear and whisper, “You should cover your pussy back up, Ken. It’s showing.” I pull back just long enough to see his face turn beet red, and then I turn and walk quickly to the exit where Lu is waiting.
I’ll be goddamned if I’ll apologize to that fuck stick. He can suck it. I laugh as I get to the door because the DJ just started “U and Ur Hand” by P!nk. That fits. I turn, point at Ken and wink at him as Lu and I cross through the door to the parking lot.
I hear the ringing and slam my hand down on my alarm clock, but the sound does not stop. Not my alarm. Damn it. Where the hell is that noise coming from? Shit. It’s my phone.
I lean too far over and fall to the floor. Shit, my head hurts. Fucking Patrón. I grab the jeans I was wearing last night which are on the floor beside me and fish out my phone from the pocket.
“What!” I yell into the phone.
“CC!” screams the most angelic voice I’ve ever heard. Landry has called me CC since she started talking. It’s one of the things she said prior to losing her hearing that she has been able to continue to say. One of the scariest moments of my life was when we had to rush Landry to the hospital with a really high fever when she was about 15 months old. She’d somehow contracted meningitis and spent weeks in the hospital. She almost died, and we were so lucky she pulled through. She’s such a strong little thing. Unfortunately, the illness had damaged her cochlea and we learned quickly that she had lost almost all of her hearing. By the time she was 2, she was completely deaf.
“LuLu, I’m going to kill you for waking me up this early!” I mumble into the phone, trying to push myself off the ground. My head is pounding so hard I feel like I’m gonna puke. Water. I need water.
I can hear Lu giggling and Landry running off, yelling my name over and over. Jesus, I love that little girl. I’d do anything for her.
“It’s not early, Carson. It’s almost noon. Get your ass up and get over here. You promised Landry you’d help us paint her room purple, remember? If I have to endure this hell that is the paint smell, mixed with the hangover that is your fault, you’re suffering with me. Get your ass over here, STAT!” I hear her giggle as she hangs up. I head to the bathroom for a shower. I hate Patrón. It’s only my friend when I’m drunk-pole-dancing and beating people’s asses. I giggle at the memory of Jerrod’s face as I left last night. Such a douche nozzle.
The shower is not near hot or long enough, thanks to my shitty apartment’s hot water problem. Maybe I’ll take another one at Lu’s later since she has a nice, big hot water heater. Yeah, totally packing a bag for that shit. Hot shower, here I come.
When I get outside, I realize my truck is still at the bar. I took a cab home. Damn it. I text Lu as I head back into my building to get my bike.
Me: Hey, bitch. I gotta go get my truck, then I’ll head y’alls way. Make me biscuits and gravy or I’m sleeping on your couch while you paint! ;)
Lu: I’ll make B&G if you stop and get Landry chocolate milk.
Me: DONE! C U soon.
I grab my bike and head toward the elevator. Hopefully no one is in there. I hate waiting for the damn elevator. Lucky for me, and everyone else, it’s empty. I make it to the ground level, get my hung-over ass on my bike and start toward The Friedmont to pick up my man. I’ll stop by the store once I get him.
I pull into the parking lot, on the verge of dry heaves from the heat mixed with the hangover. Jesus, I gotta stop drinking. I throw my bike in the back, hoist myself up into the driver’s seat and crank the engine. Pulling out of the parking lot, I head toward Albertsons for chocolate milk.
I grab a gallon of Landry’s favorite chocolate milk, the biggest Gatorade I can find and a bottle of ibuprofen and head for the checkout. I feel someone watching me, but when I look around, I don’t see anyone I recognize. Weird. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up and creeps me out. I pay for my stuff, look up to grab my bag, and taking one last look around, I notice the hot guy from the bar last night standing a couple of check stands down from me.
He’s once again dressed in slacks and a button-up shirt, but this time the sleeves are rolled up, revealing the colorful tattooed sleeves on both arms. Sleeves just upped his hotness factor, if that’s even possible. He doesn’t have a ball cap on this time, and I can see that he has thick black hair with a bit of curl. It has that sex hair look to it. He smiles and waves. I smirk and nod my head before grabbing my bag and heading to my truck.
I open the back door, put the bag on the floorboard and close the door. When I turn around to open my door, I see hot guy walking toward me. I must look like hell after last night. He left early, though, from what I can remember, so hopefully he didn’t see my pole dancing, or my blow-up with prick Ken.
“Hey, if it isn’t the new dancer at the Friedmont,” he greets with a chuckle as he approaches. Shit. He saw.
“Sorry about that. Patrón was not my friend last night,” I say while trying to hide my cheeks, knowing I’m blushing with embarrassment. I open my door. “It was nice seeing you again, New Guy, but I’ve got a hot date with a 5-year-old to paint her bedroom. Can’t let her down.” I hoist myself into my truck.
“Hey, you up for dinner tonight?” He puts his hand on my door to stop me from closing it. My heart beat speeds up. A date. Keep focus.
“That’d be nice, but the next couple of weeks are going to be super-busy for me. I have finals coming up. Why don’t you give me your name and number and I’ll call you when things settle down.” I hand him a pen and my hand.
He looks at me for a second, reaches over to take my phone out of my other hand and proceeds to program his number into my phone. Smart guy. A second later, I hear his phone chime, and he hands me back my phone.
“Now I have your number, too, so you can’t blow me off,” he states with a smirk. I giggle. Yes, giggle like a 12-year-old. This guy is off the charts hot, and I’m giggling like a dumbass.
&n
bsp; “I won’t blow you off. I’ll call or text you as soon as my finals are over and we’ll get food!” I tell him as I start to close my door.
“Hey, what’s your name?” Mr. Blue Eyes asks at the last second.
“Carson. Talk to you soon!” I yell as I close my door.
I drive to Lu’s thinking of nothing but dinner with Mr. Blue Eyes. He gives me butterflies. I don’t know if I’m ready for butterflies.
I get to Lu’s and rush the front door like I’m on fire. I had chugged the Gatorade on the way to her house, and now I have to pee so bad I can barely move. It dawns on me while I’m in the bathroom that I didn’t ask for his name. I pull my phone out of my pocket and go to “Sent Messages.” The entry just says New Guy. What the fuck!
I start a message and type quickly.
Me: New Guy…what the hell is that?
New Guy: lol. My name.
Me: No, it isn’t. What’s your name?
New Guy: That’s what you called me! It’ll be a surprise when we do actually get to have dinner. Leaves me all mysterious! ;)
Me: Whatever, goof ball. I gotta run. I’ll call you when finals are over.
New Guy: You better. I know your name, where you work, and where you shop…I will find you! **muah haa haa**
Me: Stalker much?
New Guy: Nah, just want to look in those beautiful blue eyes again. Talk to you soon, Carson! ;)
I smile, put my phone in my pocket and splash water on my face. Damn butterflies.
I walk into the kitchen where Landry is sitting at the table, enjoying biscuits and gravy. I grab a glass, pour her some chocolate milk and place it on the table. I swear that child could drink her body weight in chocolate milk. I tap her shoulder and sign hello. She jumps up and flings her tiny body into my arms. God, I love this girl.
“Car, sit down and eat before it gets cold. You were in the damn bathroom forever,” Lu scolds and places a plate of food in front of me. Aw, my hangover cure: biscuits and greasy sausage gravy. It’s the one thing I don’t hold back on when it comes to food. I can’t say no to Lu’s biscuits and gravy.
After breakfast, Lu and I suffer through painting Landry’s room purple…and I mean bright purple. Landry, of course, loves it and runs around screeching, “CC” at the top of her lungs. I love seeing that little girl smile. It really does make the whole painful day worth it. I’m so tired I decide to not partake in the hot beautiful shower at Lu’s house. Instead, I hug Landry and Lu and drag my ass out to my pickup.
I pull up in front of my apartment and put him in the assigned slot. Laying my head on the steering wheel, I take a deep breath. I know I should check my messages and texts because I ignored my phone all day, but I’m so tired and I just want to sleep.
I get out of the truck, pull my bike out of the back and am heading up to my apartment when I feel my phone vibrate again. Fuck it. I guess I might as well get it over with. I make it up to my apartment, and drop the bike in the corner of the living room. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see I’ve missed a couple of texts from New Guy, a call from an unknown number, and a call from Jack, my boss. Shit.
I call Jack first because it may have something to do with either: (A) my shift tomorrow; or, (B) the owner’s douche nozzle kid getting me fired. Lucky for me, it’s A. He needs me to come in early tomorrow to cover for Sarah who has a sick kid and can’t make it in for her shift. Sweet, more hours for me.
I get into the shower to wash off the day’s grime. This time, the water is hot so I take a little longer and enjoy the heat. When I get out, I put curlers in my hair and hope it’s not a total frizzy mess tomorrow. I throw on my favorite fuzzy pajamas, grab my iPad and head for bed. It’s early and I should eat but really, I just want to read until I fall sleep. I decide I should check my texts and see what New Guy has to say.
4 hours ago:
New Guy: So, I know I said I’d leave you alone until after your finals…but texting would be a fun way to get to know each other a little before our date. :)
3 hours ago:
New Guy: Sooooo, you don’t want to get to know me?
30 minutes ago:
New Guy: Um, Carson?
I giggle as I sit down on the couch to get comfy and pull the blanket up over my legs.
Me: Wow…your stalker tendencies know no bounds, huh?
10 minutes. No response.
Me: I was kidding. I told you I was painting a bedroom today. I didn’t have my phone on me all day.
15 minutes. No response.
Me: Okay. Good night, New Guy.
I set my phone down and pick up my iPad to do a little light reading before I pass out. I read mostly indie authors. Right now, I’m reading a new release by one of my favorites and it doesn’t take long for me to get completely lost in it.
A little while later, my phone pings with an incoming text. I pull up my messages and sure enough, it’s from New Guy.
New Guy: Ahhh, so you weren’t ignoring me on purpose. I was starting to actually feel like a stalker since you weren’t participating in our conversation. Lol
Before I have a chance to respond…
New Guy: So, what do ya think? 20 questions?
Me: Sure, I’m game.
New Guy: Okay. What’s your full name and where are you from?
Me: Carson Miriam Breaux and I’m from New Orleans.
New Guy: LOUISIANA? I knew you had a weird accent. How the hell did you end up in Seattle?
Me: Nope. I’m not giving you anything else until you tell me your name.
New Guy: No way. You can ask me anything you want, but I’m liking the fact that you don’t know who I am. I’m not coughing up my name until we meet for dinner.
Me: Why not? Are you like wanted by the FBI or something, and you don’t want me to find out?
New Guy: Yes, I’m wanted by the FBI. Most wanted, actually. ;) So spill it. Why Seattle?
Me: Nope, you still haven’t answered a question for me yet.
New Guy: Okay…ask me a different one.
Me: How old are you and where are you from?
New Guy: I’m 32 and I’m from Whidbey Island, just north of us.
Followed closely by:
New Guy: So, Seattle?
Me: It’s a long story. Let’s just say I needed a change of scenery and leave it at that.
New Guy: I’ll get the full details at a later time then. ;) This is fun, huh? Okay. How old are you?
Me: 27. What do you do for a living?
New Guy: I’m a lawyer.
His response freaks me out a little bit. I’ve been down the lawyer path, and I have no desire to do it again.
Me: Well, it was nice knowing you, New Guy, but I’m not dating a lawyer.
New Guy: lol…funny.
Me: Not kidding.
New Guy: What do you have against lawyers?
Me: Well, that would involve that long story I was referring to earlier. I’ve known some lawyers in my time. Plus, I was weeks away from starting law school when I needed that big change I mentioned. End of discussion.
New Guy: Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a lawyer then huh? Lol I was kidding.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Me: Good thing. So, really, what do you do?
New Guy: I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you that yet, either. I want you to get to know me before you jump to conclusions about who I am and what I do. Let’s just say I’m a businessman and leave it at that.
Me: Ooooo, mysterious. ;)
New Guy: Not really. I just find that most women make assumptions about me before they get to know me, and I hope that doesn’t happen in your case.
Me: Okay fine. No name, no employment info. Got it. How about relationship status and history?
New Guy: Let’s see. Typical past; dated the same girl all through high school, broke up when we went off to college and needed to “find ourselves.” I’ve had a couple of relationships since then but nothing serious. How about
you?
Me: Here is where I pull MY mystery card. Let’s just say I’ve been burned and kind of given up on that “happily ever after” concept. No relationships since the burn and no desire to start one.
New Guy: Ouch. Shot down before the first date. Damn, Carson…
I giggle at his response.
Me: Look, I really am looking forward to our date. Just know that I’m jumpy about relationships. Starting a friendship first would be great.
I get no response for a little bit and I’m concerned I pissed him off.
Me: You still there?
A few more minutes pass before I hear the chime again.
New Guy: Are you friend-zoning me right out of the chute, Carson?
Me: lol. No. I’m just saying that I think us getting to know each other as friends before our date would be a good idea.
New Guy: Oh, okay. I was a little worried there for a second because I don’t usually make friends with girls I’m seriously attracted to.
I was in the middle of drinking my water when I inhale suddenly at his response and start choking. Damn, New Guy. I get the coughing under control and respond.
Me: Um, what?
New Guy: What? You didn’t friend-zone me, so I can tell you I’m attracted to you.
New Guy: Right?
Me: Uh, sure. I guess your response just surprised me that’s all.
Me: Don’t get your hopes up about me putting out on the first date, by the way. I’m not a “one night stand” kinda girl.
New Guy: Damn it. ;) Actually, I’m not a “one night stand” kinda guy, either. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a couple, but I’m not a man-whore or anything.
Me: Which brings me to our next discussion. How many people have you slept with?
I put my phone down and run for the bathroom, do my business, run into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of wine and then return to the living room.
New Guy: Are you sure you want to have this discussion?
Raising Landry Page 3
