Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94624 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Fine, I don’t. But I can see how sometimes you really just want to punch somebody.”
Hannah cackled. “Yes, you do. Like this past Sunday night, I was at a fundraiser for GreenSpace, this company that creates gardens and small parks in cities, and this man, I don’t know what he was thinking, but when I walked by, he groped me.”
“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, breathless.
She waved a dismissive hand at me, and Jorge, our waiter, put a margarita on the rocks, with a salted rim, down in front of her. “Oh, this looks good,” she said with a sigh, picking it up and taking a sip.
“Hannah Regina Kage,” I snapped at her. “Answer.”
Turning, I got a smile. “This guy grabbed my ass as I walked by him, and I gasped, and I was so mad, but mostly I was startled, and it’s weird, but in those situations, I don’t just normally strike out at people. I’m embarrassed, and for a second, I think, what did I do to deserve that? Like, what is it about me that caused that to happen?”
“Oh, honey,” Aja said, reaching across the table for her hand. “I so get it. Because it’s never something you expect.”
Hannah nodded and then turned to me, grimacing. “Unfortunately for Mr. Slavon, George doesn’t have that same disconnect.”
“Oh no,” Dylan said in a singsongy voice, “that’s terrible.”
“Really?” I said drolly.
“Tell us what happened, B?” Dylan asked excitedly, ignoring me.
“Well, George is right there, and so he put Mr. Slavon face down on the floor. And when his bodyguard rushed over, he put that guy on the floor along with him.”
“Did he do it fast and hard?” Aja was interested, sounding a bit bloodthirsty.
“Oh yeah. One second I was staring at a man sneering at me, and the next, he’s on the carpet next to my shoes.”
“I am sorry you were in the middle of that,” I told her. “But George isn’t just going to stand by and allow a stranger to put their hands on you.”
“No, and of course the mayor’s wife, Lydia Grainger, is there, and she comes over and asks what happened, and George says, hitting her with the big blue puppy dog eyes of his, I’m so sorry, ma’am, or some crap like that, and then he says that all he saw was a man grope me, so he just had to act.”
Dylan snorted.
Aja cackled.
“I like George,” I told Hannah.
“Oh, you should have seen him doing his whole reluctant hero bit, when anyone who really knows him is aware that he used way more force than was necessary.”
“Did Mr. Slavon or his bodyguard move?”
“Are you kidding? They couldn’t even roll over. When George puts you on the ground, there’s no moving after that.”
“So what happened?” Aja asked her.
“Well, again, the mayor’s wife is there, right? She’s horrified, and she’s loud about it, and her protection team, they get there and pick up Mr. Slavon and his bodyguard and carry their asses out. And several other people come up to her and say they saw Mr. Slavon grab my ass, and, I mean, he did it in a way where I felt more violated than when I’ve been at a party with Jake. It felt worse.”
“What kind of party?”
“Parties that friends throw, parties that Jake gets invited to, you know, keggers and things like that where people get totally wasted.”
“You can’t be there. You’re not twenty-one yet.”
“No one is checking IDs at the door of a house party, Pa.”
Something occurred to me. “When you’re not with Aaron, do waiters card you?”
“They have no need to, as I never order anything with alcohol,” she replied.
“That’s good.”
“But I also believe that pushing that, seeing if they would serve me, is not in my best interest,” she explained. “It’s just like my car. I don’t drive something pimped out, and neither do I have a beater or some stupid sportscar. I drive a thoroughly respectable Honda CR-V Sport Touring Hybrid in Urban Grey Pearl. Why would I get stopped unless I was doing something really dumb that the cops couldn’t ignore.”
“I still don’t like you drinking at house parties.”
“I drink at our parties,” she reminded me.
“Yes, but––”
“The parties Jake goes to are mostly places where there’s a keg, and since you know I hate beer, there’s not a lot to worry about. I mean, unless someone is there whipping up yummy Amaretto sours, you don’t have to worry. I have water and the occasional wine cooler. I am in no danger of becoming an alcoholic.”
I shook my head at her.
“You know, you’re being awfully judgmental for someone who—didn’t you have a fake ID when you were my age?”
“That’s not the important takeaway here,” I told her.
Her grunt was loud.
“I feel very judged right now.”
“That’s because we’re deep in the land of hypocrisy,” Dylan told me.