Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Oh, right,” I say with a grin, having known that would be his reaction, and redirect the paper to James. “Here ya go.”
“Hold the fucking phone,” Shane chimes in as James, a very much single dude like me and Shane, shrugs and shoves the number into the pocket of his jeans. “You feeling okay, Dom?” He makes a show of checking my head for a fever with the back of his hand.
I won’t deny that, on most nights, I’d consider using the number myself. I mean, I’m a guy without any ties besides my job, and I like women. Love them, actually. But at thirty-five, I’m reaching a point where picking up chicks in bars feels like . . . I don’t know . . . something I don’t really want to do anymore.
If I’m being honest, one day soon, I’d like to have what Crew and his wife, Jane, have.
“Do I need to call a fucking medic?” Shane asks, still razzing me, and I just shrug one shoulder.
“Wasn’t feeling it.”
“Excuse me?” Shane’s eyes scrutinize my face. “The Karaoke Cowboy isn’t feeling the hot-as-fuck blonde who won’t stop shaking her ass in his direction?”
“Uh-oh . . .” I pause and reach out to gently pat his hand. “Are you upset, bud? Do you feel like I’m playing favorites because I gave her number to James and not you?” I frown in sympathy. “Because if it’ll make you feel any better, I love you just as much as I love James. Don’t forget that.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Shane mutters, and both James and Crew laugh.
“You know what, bud?” I continue and take a sip of my beer. “The next number I get tonight has your name written all over it.”
Shane doesn’t need my help getting numbers, but I sure as shit love giving the cocky bastard a hard time when I can.
“You’re so damn ridiculous, Dom,” Shane says with a laugh as I put the cowboy hat back on my head and secure it down. I tip the front of it in answer, and he shakes his head. “The only thing crazier than you is the week we’ve just had. I don’t know about you, but I did not picture someone like Hannah working for Call Me Anytime.”
“Call Me Anytime?” James asks. “Isn’t that the phone sex hotline I always see on those billboards by all the strip clubs?”
“Shane,” I chastise with a tsk. “You’re so fucking loose-lipped when you get a couple drinks in.”
“You’re right.” Shane holds up both hands in apology, smiling as he wipes a drop of beer from his chin with the back of his hand. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Give me a break.” James groans. “The two of you are the biggest teases.”
I laugh, grabbing his shoulder and squeezing. “It’s not our fault you’re an accountant or that Crew is an architect. We didn’t choose your boring-ass jobs. You did.”
“Fuck off,” Crew says, turning around from the bar, where he just paid for a fresh beer, to enter the conversation again.
“That’s right,” Shane agrees. “Dom here even took a seven-figure pay cut just to have a cool job.”
I scoff, but James is quick with a response.
“I sure do like money, don’t you, Crew?” James says, smiling at Crew. “And I really like six-figure-salary money. How much do detectives make these days? Like, what? Sixty thousand a year?”
“Seventy-five,” Shane corrects, and Crew is grinning like a bastard now.
“I mean, we don’t get to play with bodies every day, but my bank account and my wife sure do love those big paychecks my boring-ass architect gigs bring in.”
“Is that what you think we do?” I ask, my face twisting up comically. “Play with the bodies?” I turn to Shane, resting my elbow on his shoulder. “Do we play with bodies, Shane?”
“Oh no.” Shane frowns. “Playing with the bodies would be very bad, Dom.”
“Very bad,” I repeat, and James hits me with the middle finger.
“Fuck off, Karaoke Cowboy, would you? Why don’t you go sing another song?”
I laugh and raise my beer in salute, guzzling it before setting the now-empty bottle down on the table. “You know what? I think I’ll do just that.”
I take off for the stage and crash my way into the band again, just as they’re firing up to play “Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” by Shania Twain.
Crew and James shake their heads but also cheer. Shane taunts me to take my pants off. And I sing at the top of my lungs as I work the stage.
Tonight, I plan to let it all hang out, but come Monday, I’ll be ready to dive headfirst into Hannah’s Ruby line.
9
Hannah
Monday, May 13
4:00 p.m.
“You’ve got Ruby. What’s your pleasure today?” I recite from my notepad, finally starting to get the hang of how these calls always start.