Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Taylor Swift?” I question, pointing in the air toward the speakers.
“The girls dig it,” he answers with a panty-dropping grin.
“Ah, I see.” I smile and nod.
“I'll get Linc, he will take the stuff and pay you,” he says, looking over at the bar area.
“Wait, What?” Who the fuck is Linc? This is not good. I don't deal with people I don't know.
Billy doesn't answer me. He is on his tiptoes trying to look over a group of people standing between us and the bar. One of them makes eye contact with him, and Billy yells, “Linc?” The guy nods his head and turns toward the bar, where he yells at another man while pointing in our direction. The group of people move apart, clearing a visible path to the bar. My heart jumps up in my throat and starts pounding so hard I can hear it over the music. It's my new neighbor. He is sitting on a barstool with his arms around two blondes, one on either side of him. He is looking down, smiling at one of the girl’s tits, which are spilling out of the blue bikini top she is wearing, while she whispers something in his ear. A man beside the blonde nudges his arm and points in our direction. He looks up and our eyes meet. His eyes go wide and then he mouths the word, “Shit.” Getting up, he pats each girl on their leg, silently telling them to stay there as he walks toward us.
“There he is.” Billy points while wrapping his arm around my waist, pushing me through the pathway the people have cleared for us.
“Hey, Linc, this is C, the girl I was telling you about,” Billy shouts over the music, nodding his head down toward me when we get to him.
Linc nods back, not saying anything, while never taking his eyes off me.
“C, this is Linc, he will take the stuff and pay you,” Billy says, leaning in my ear. Then giving me a quick peck on the cheek, he runs his finger of his free arm across my belly along the sheer panel of my shirt and says, “I like this shirt.” Linc gives Billy a weird look and grabs my elbow, pulling me out of the arm Billy has wrapped around me and pushes me forward through the crowd. Exiting through a door to the left of the bar, he leads me down a long hallway not saying a word. The music and noise of the party getting harder to hear the farther we go. Letting go of my elbow, he opens a door at the end of the hall then nods his head, motioning for me to enter. I hesitate, looking inside the room, and then back to him. He tilts his head and quirks his eyebrows upward at me. Sighing, I enter the room, stopping in front of a desk that sits along the back wall. Linc follows, going around me to sit at the chair behind the desk. He’s wearing one of those leather jacket things that Billy wears, I’ve never noticed it on him before.
“Have a seat,” he says, leaning back in his chair with his left elbow on the armrest, his hand resting at his mouth, while motioning with his right hand to a chair beside me.
Not moving, I turn my head to glance over at the chair he has pointed to, and answer, “Um...I really have somewhere I need to be, so if you don't mind, can we just do this so I can go?” I finish, looking back to him.
“Busy night for drug dealing, Miss Field?” he replies, still leaning back in his chair with his eyebrows quirked up.
“Yeah, you’re not the only pothead in town,” I say sarcastically, tilting my head with a small smile.
“I'm not a pothead,” he snaps, shooting straight up in the chair, his eyes now angry.
“Mmmm hmmm, an ounce equals pothead. I'm a drug dealer I would know,” I reply seriously.
“It's not for me,” he retorts defensively, his eyes narrowing at me.
“Of course not,” I quip with a wink and sarcastic smile.
“You better watch that smart mouth. You don't want to piss me off,” he warns with his teeth clenched. His hands form fists against the arms of the chair, looking like he is about to leap up and tackle me.
“No, I don't, so how about you get the money, and this can be over?” I suggest, opening my purse, laying the bag of marijuana on the desk.
“I’ve never seen you wear one of those leather jacket things before. Why?”
“This vest is called a cut, just so you know, and I wear it when it’s appropriate.”
“How come yours doesn’t look like the others, like Billie’s?” I prod.
“Because I’m a prospect… of sorts.”
“So, you’re a noob.”
“What the fuck is a noob?”