She slid the cola away and reached for the glass of water the waitress had set down when we’d arrived. “So what do you drink, if you don’t drink soda?”
“Coffee, green tea, whiskey, beer, and water. Sometimes wine, but only dry red.”
“Why?”
“White’s full of sugar, that’s why.”
“Oh.” She sounded forlorn, and I guessed she was sweet white kind of girl.
I laughed. “Babe, I’m not tryin’ to tell you what to do or what to eat. You wanna know what I think, I’ll tell you. But don’t feel like you have to change just because of what I think.”
“I kind of want to change, though, and Iaminterested in what you have to say about this, since you’re clearly very good at being healthy. I work out, do yoga, and run. I like being healthy, and I try to avoid junk food, but I do indulge sometimes.” She finished her burger and started on the fries. “Bread is hard to give up. And so is my pinot grigio.”
I nodded. “Dude, I get it. I was addicted to Mt. Dew in high school, and in college I ate like shit until my coach got on my ass about my belly. I went through withdrawals from that shit, I swear. Garlic bread and mozzarella sticks and loaded potato skins? That shit was myjam, man. I’ve always tended toward beer and whiskey so that part wasn’t hard, but soda took a minute.”
The conversation moved to our favorite movies as I finished eating and we sipped on coffee. I found it surprisingly easy to just talk to her. She was, obviously, wicked smart, but she was also very erudite, current on pop-culture and news, and had a wry, dry sense of humor that kept me constantly laughing and always guessing, never knowing what would come out of her mouth.
I was about to the pay the bill when a big, tattooed body slid into the booth opposite us.
I tensed. “Moss, what up, bro?”
I slid closer to Evangeline and wrapped my arm around her; felt her to be as tense as I was. Picking up on my tension, probably.
“I need to move up your fight,” Moss said, without preamble.
I gave him the full-on death glare. “Dude, seriously? This is not the fuckin’ place for that conversation, man. You know that. You have my phone number, fuckin’ use it.”
Moss was a massive man. Six-six and three hundred pounds easily, tattooed from fingertip to shoulders and all over his chest and neck, with a shaved head and a thick blond beard down to his chest, ears pierced from the lobes all the way up to the tips, fingers decorated with gold rings and platinum necklaces around his neck.
He lifted an eyebrow at me. “Ibeentextin’ you for an hour. You ain’t replied, and I was walkin’ past when I saw you, so I figured I’d deliver the message in person.” His gaze went to Evangeline, raking her over several times, blatantly ogling. “And Basher, my man, you gotta introduce me to this fine-ass honey you got with you. Flavor of the week, amiright?”
“My phone died, forgot about that. Sorry.” I tugged Evangeline closer. “And no, I don’t have to introduce you to shit, Moss.”
“Come on, bro. You can’t keep a honey that tight all to yourself.” He was leaning forward over the table, sliding his hands toward Evangeline’s, making eyes at her. “Ditch this gorilla, babe. Come with me, I’ll show you arealgood time.”
I leveled a glare at Moss that even he couldn’t ignore. “Moss, listen to me. You got the fight connections and I respect that. We make each other money—Imakeyoua shitload of money. But donotmistake me for yourbuddy, okay? I will fuck your shit up in ten seconds flat if you don’t back the fuck off, right the fuck now. Feel me…bro? You know I don’t play, so don’t try me.”
Moss stared me down, but he was the first to look away, leaning back in the booth and raising his hands palms out. “A’ight, a’ight. No harm, no foul. But I got you here; you gotta give me an answer. Can you fight tonight? The big money boys want to see you and Juarez ASAP.”
“I thought it was Nagle? Since when is it Juarez?”
“Nagle lost to Rooster last night, got legit fucked up, so he’s stuck in the hospital gettin’ his forearm screwed back together. Juarez got tapped to fill in.”
I sighed. “Nagle shoulda known better than to let Rooster get his paws on him. That big ugly fuck likes to break shit.” I grimaced. “I gotta figure out my schedule before I can commit. I’ll get back to you.”
Moss shook his head, his beard waggling side to side. “Nah, bro. I gotta make the call in the next ten minutes.”
I groaned. “You’re killin’ me, Smalls.” I nodded my head sideways at Evangeline. “I’m busy, get me?”
Moss laughed, a deep belly laugh. “Bring the honey, then. I’ll keep her safe,” he said, winking at her.
“Yeah, sure. Dream on, Bullwinkle. I wouldn’t trust you with a pet rock, Moss.”
“You wound me, Basher. For real. I might cry.”
I glanced at Evangeline. “You could hang back with the girls, maybe?”
She shrugged, her expression carefully neutral. “Don’t take me into account when making your plans, Baxter.”
