Page 108 of Flipping His Script


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Nowthatwas a joke.

Working like hell to hide my disgust, I looked once again to Mackenzie. She was still staring, so I figured,"What the hell. Why not make use of that fact?"

I looked back to Anna and said loud enough for Mackenzie to hear, "So, you wanna get out of herenow?"

But it wasn't Anna who answered. It was Mackenzie, who protested, "But we're not done with dinner."

Maybe she wasn't.But I was.Hell, I had food at home – or even better, the knowledge of several drive-throughs along the way, where I could pick up a burger with only half the grief.

Still, I gave Mackenzie my best movie star smile. "Sorry, Babe, but I've got to get my girl home."

Mackenzie hustled forward and gave me a pleading look. "But why?"

I smiled again. "Because, the wayIhear it, I'm gonna fuck her brains out on the kitchen table." I felt like a slime-bag for saying it, but hey, I had my own part to play in this mess.

In my arms, Anna stiffened, but she didn't let go.

Deliberately, I leaned closer to her and said none too quietly, "Thatiswhat you whispered, wasn't it?"

Before Anna could answer, Mackenzie said, "Oh come on! That's not even creative!"

True.But whenIgot creative, I preferred actions to words. More to the point, I preferred partners who were worth the effort.

Anna wasn't it.

When I made no reply, Mackenzie sidled closer to me and said, "I'm just saying, I'd be a lot more creative thanthat." She made a show of licking her lips. "Have you ever done it on the washing machine? I mean, when it's running?"

What the ever-loving fuck?

With a hard look, I said, "Is that an invitation?"

She smiled. "Well, um, yeah."

Anna pulled away and whirled to face Mackenzie. "Oh yeah? Well…" Anna paused. "Maybe he doesn'thavea washing machine. You ever think ofthat?"

I shoved a hand through my hair.Way to tell her, Anna.

Mackenzie's chin lifted. "It doesn't matter, becauseIdo." She glanced in the general direction of our booth. "I mean, Preston does." She looked to me and tried for another smile. "And he doesn't mind, really."

She was wrong. The guy minded more than he'd admit. But that washisproblem, not mine. I looked back to Anna and said, "Wait here. I'm gonna settle the bill." Without waiting for a reply, I turned and strode toward our booth.

I was gonna settle up all right – first with the restaurant, and then with Anna.

One way or another.