Her eyebrows furrowed. "Excuse me?"
"First name – Waffle. Last name – Waitress."
"Oh," she said with a little laugh. "Was that a joke?"
Was it?By now, I wasn't so sure. Still, I said, "That's 'Waffle' with two f's, by the way."
With a sound of annoyance, she said, "Iknowhow to spell waffle."
"Good. Then you're all set." By now, I was beyond ready to leave. But she was still leaning against the driver's side door, effectively blocking my path. I gave the door a pointed look. "Well, this has been lovely and all, but you need to move."
She blinked. "What?"
"Your ass is on my door."
At this, her smirk returned with a vengeance. "But it's notyourdoor, is it?"
She was right. It was Flynn's door, which was part of Flynn's car, which belonged inhisgarage, which was attached tohishouse, where I was currently living. Cripes, even my clothes weren't my own.
When I made no reply, she added, "Don't worry. If you're really lucky, you'll get to keep it when he's done with you." She leaned closer and said, "Because sooner or later, hewillbe done with you. You can bank onthat."
I forced a smirk of my own. "And ifyou'rereally lucky, I won't squash you when I leave."
Her smirk disappeared. "What do you mean?"
Without waiting for her reply, I turned and strode around the front of the car, heading toward the passenger's side. I yanked open the passenger's side door and climbed in. From there, I crawled over the center console and finally into the driver's seat.
By now, she'd stepped away from the car and was glaring at me through the driver's side window. She didn't say anything, but her expression said it all.That's cheating.
I lifted my hand and flipped her the bird.Cheat this.With my middle finger still extended, I fired up the engine and pulled away, leaving her standing in the same spot, looking decidedly disgruntled.
Funny, I knew the feeling.
When I returned to Flynn's, he was nowhere in sight.
Good.I didn't want to see him, anyway. And apparently, he didn't want to see me either. At least we agreed onsomething.
After leaving him a note on the refrigerator, I trudged up to my room feeling like the day had slipped me silly. In reality, it hadn't beenthatbad. After all, I'd had plenty worse.
I let out a long, exhausted breath. Probably, I'd have plenty worse in my future, too.
Plagued bythatcheery thought, I spent the next few hours trying to read before I gave up and crawled into bed, where I fell into a fitful sleep, thinking of Gordon and Flynn, and even that obnoxious reporter.
At that moment, I swear I hated them all. Unfortunately, there was no escaping them, not even in my dreams.
