Page 78 of Bad Attitude
“Oh.” She looks down at her glass. “…Doesn’t soundtoobad.”
“Yeah. Then I found out he’s married, with a kid.”
Her head jerks up, eyes widening. “No. Fucking.Way.”
“Yes-way.” I nod. “Saw them with my own eyes.”
“Fuck,” she breathes, drawing the word out. “And Kurt doesn’t know,” she continues, more to herself than me. “Which meansBriggsdoesn’t know. Which means Declan’s kept it hidden all that time?” A pause. “I can’tbelievethat.”
“Yeah. Well.”
“How did you find out?”
A slightly tricky question. “I… uh… followed him.” Not proud of that.
“Wow.” She gives me a nod of respect. “Ballsy.”
Was it, though?
Tasha drains her glass and stands up. “Getting the bottle. Don’t move. Ever done a job with a hangover? I think we should.”
I laugh and look out over the balcony at the city. “Bad idea.” My laughter fades quickly, because tomorrow, I’ll have to see Declan again. “Fuck it. Good idea.”
Three bottles and two-and-a-half Disney films later,we’re sitting on Tasha’s couch when my phone vibrates on the table.
I reach over, pleasantly tipsy if not probably quite drunk, but I’m sober as soon as I see the number.
Declan.
“Shit.” I hit the call reject button.
“What?”
“He called me.”
It’s six thirty. We never did settle on our evening plans.
I’m still gazing unseeing at the phone when a text comes through.
Hi Hellcat. I’m assuming you like Italian, and I’ve booked a table at Bestia for eight. Close enough to stagger back to my place. That doesn’t work, let me know soonest. Ever sixty-nined?
I close my eyes as my blush suffuses my face, the images in my mind visceral, immediate, andsoinappropriate. The man’smarried.
“Are you all right?”
“He… uh… we were supposed to meet for dinner.”
“And he still wants to?”
“Yeah.” And more.
“You’re not going, are you?”
“Not sure I can walk, let alone ride.” Not true. I’ve ridden a bike in a far worse state than this. It’s all about focus.
“Okay, then.” She pats my thigh. “Get some food in?”
“Sure.” I’m still staring at the text.
