Claimed Darker by Em Brown
Chapter 17
DARREN
Past
“You do it with Hannah?” I ask JD the following night after he arrives at The Lotus.
JD plops down on the sofa. “Yeah. It was cool. She gives pretty good head.”
I thought I was going to be in a tough corner with Bridget, but once I caught her picking at her stitches, she had other things to worry about.
“I’m surprised you never boned her,” JD remarks before turning to the server and ordering a drink.
“I was her boss,” I answer.
“Why should that have stopped you?”
“If you had employees, you’d understand.”
“I don’t think so. Come on, men do it all the time. In politics, in corporate America, everywhere. The boss-secretary thing is so common, it’s cliche. Remember that sorority chick I dated back at ‘LA? That’s all she read: romances about banging the boss.”
“It’s all good until it isn’t. So you still interested in Amy?”
“Yeah. She’s super cute. Everything I do wows her.” JD sits up. “But you going to be bringing Bridget here all the time? ’Cause that’s going to cramp what I do.”
“You mean like last night? According to Bridget, you told Amy you were too jet-lagged to go out.”
“Exactly! I called Amy before Bridget told her about me, like you suggested.”
“She buy it?”
“Yep. It’s all good. I invited her to the Rai-Rai concert. Front row. She’s thinks I’m a god.”
I can’t decide if it’s a good thing or not that JD still plans to see Amy. I was surprised to see JD at the bar last night. I thought he was going to pass out on the sofa.
“How was the weed?” I ask.
“It was good shit. Would’ve enjoyed it more if it hadn’t been for Manny.”
I frown. “Manny?”
“Yeah, he wanted to talk to me and try to convince me to take him one. Motherfucker would not shut up.”
I groan. I told Manny I’d try JD again.
JD leans back and props his feet on the ottoman. “I told him there’s no way. He’s a fucking loser.”
“You said that to him?”
“Yeah. I know the truth hurts, but that’s not my fault. I’m not like you. I can’t pretend to be nice to someone like that.”
“What did Manny say?”
JD starts to laugh. “He was so fucking pissed, it was like I could see the steam coming out of his ears. But he had nothing to say. ’Cause he knows the truth: he’s a loser. Always was, always will be.”
I rub my temple. If that’s how adamant JD feels about it, I guess my talking to him again wouldn’t have produced a different outcome. Still, I wish Manny would have waited for me first.
“I told him he should just stick with the PSB and leave triad stuff to the big boys,” JD continues. “By the way, you’re not expecting Bridget again, are you?”
“Not tonight.”
“Good. ’Cause Hannah’s coming over.”
Not feeling like being around either Hannah or JD, I walk myself down to the bar.
Felipe looks me over. “I’m thinking baijiu. Or maybe a Shirley Temple?”
I laugh. “Just water.”
“Bridget coming over tonight?”
I shake my head and accept the glass of ice water from him. “You disappointed?”
“I like her.”
I know you do. Aloud, I respond, “Yeah?”
“Well, if you don’t mind unsolicited opinion and promise not to fire me…”
“No promises. You make unsolicited opinions at your own risk.”
“She’s different—in a nice way.”
I lean against the bar and eye him closer. “That wasn’t what you were going to say.”
“I want to keep my job.”
“I heard you hung out at her apartment. You and…”
“Bryan,” Felipe fills in. “He’s an investment banker with Benton-Monterey.”
“Oh, right. Cheryl approved him as a guest of Ronald’s. How’d you end up at Bridget’s place?”
“Bryan and I were doing some shopping on Telegraph and bumped into her.”
It’s the same story Bridget told me. Not that I don’t trust what Bridget said, but in my line of business, it’s better to follow up.
“She makes incredible fried chicken,” Felipe adds.
“I know. She brought some over the other night.”
“You should keep her around just for the fried chicken.”
Among other things, I muse to myself.
“Or not,” Felipe says, changing his tone. “I’m sure you don’t want unsolicited advice from your bartender any more than you want unsolicited opinions.”
I lift a brow. “So what if I solicit your opinion?”
“I like her more than most of the other women you’ve been with, but that doesn’t mean she’s right for you.”
“What would make her right for me?”
“I would say ditching that god-ugly sweater of hers, but it’s actually growing on me.” He shudders in disgust. “But I think she just needs to be taught how to dress. You don’t need a millionaire’s budget to put together a chic outfit.”
“Not sure she’d take lessons. She has other priorities. Like ending world hunger.”
“Yeah, so what do you think about that?”
I shrug. “It’s good someone’s trying to do it.”
“That’s how I feel. I’m not equipped to do that kind of work, and I wouldn’t be very good at it. So it’s best left to people who have the passion and skills for that stuff.”
A pregnant pause follows. I don’t know if he’s thinking what I’m thinking: my sphere is completely different from Bridget’s. We’re from two different worlds. Scratch that. Two incompatible worlds. We shouldn’t be together.
“How was your lunch with Hao Young?” Felipe asks, either because he was thinking along similar lines or because he wants to change the subject.
“Fine,” I reply. “You know, I think I’ll go for the baijiu after all.”
