Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Am I too old to say vibing?
I’m thirty.
Does feeling too old count?
The place thoroughly smells like seafood, but I swear that when Evilla walks in, spots me, and walks to the table with a straight face that looks neither pleased nor pissed, I can smell flowers clinging to her hair and skin. She’s dressed for a fun time, wearing a bright pink pin-up style dress with a halter neck, buttons where the straps meet the neckties, and polka dots all over the flared-out skirt. Her black leggings are very toned down, but she picked fun heels. They’re cats, not kitten heels. Real cats. I mean, not literal cats. Christ. They just look like cats. They have fuzzy faces and fuzzy black tails that wrap around her ankles as straps. Her hair glistens copper in the loose braid she teased it into, and around her neck is a lanyard with a picture dangling from the bottom that proudly boasts that she loves to save rats. A cartoon rat is giving two thumbs up.
“Oh!” Her hand closes around it when she notices me staring. “I forgot to take this off.” She sits down on the other side of the booth. Since it’s later in the day, there were a few free ones at the back. I thought Evilla would prefer a booth over sitting at a table near the front. The truth is, I think I prefer it. I’m not a backwatcher, but I also don’t want the whole place to overhear our conversation or watch us as we talk.
If I tell her that I think it’s awesome, she’ll probably toss it into the first trash can. I don’t mean to experiment or play games, but I cast a dubious brow at it. Her hand falls away, and she gives me a stubborn smile. “It’s from the event. I do love to save rats, so I guess I’ll keep it on.”
That’s pretty much what I thought.
“I have something for you.” She reaches into her purse, which is just a plain black messenger-style leather bag looped over her shoulder. Then, she pulls out and places a small object in a little clear baggie on the table.
I reach for it and immediately inspect it. It’s a pin of a pink rat, also giving the thumbs up. “My friend had a few extras. She asked me if I’d like to take one.”
“You got this for me?” It hits me hard. It’s thoughtful, and I didn’t expect it.
She quirks one red-gold brow up at me, and her freckles dance on her nose when it scrunches up near the top. “Yeah. I thought you’d like to donate to the cause. With a twenty-five dollar donation, you get one for free.”
“So you’d like me to make a twenty-five dollar donation for the pin?”
She has to work hard to hide her grin. She’s so beautiful right now when she’s being devious. She’s about to throw all sorts of sass at me, and my dick likes it far more than he should. “For you, it’s twenty-five hundred.”
“Oh. Because I’m special.”
“Yeah.” Her lips wobble, but she holds onto her mostly serious expression. “Twenty-five dollars is for regular people. You’re probably ten times as rich as the average person, so…”
“Ummm…”
“It’s for a good cause, and a few grand would go a long way.” This time, she’s not hiding a smile. She’s serious. I wonder how well the fundraiser went if she’s here asking me for this without appearing to be seriously asking me. “It’s totally tax deductible.” She traces the tabletop with her finger. “Oh, look! The menus are on this code. If we scan it with our phones, we can look at it online.” Then, she pulls out her phone as though the matter’s settled. I’ve never met anyone so direct before.
“Where can I make the donation?” I don’t sigh. I don’t because it would imply I don’t want to do it. I can well imagine how that kind of money would make a difference to the organization on the other end. How it could be huge for them.
My phone vibrates a minute later with an incoming email. I don’t normally check it, but something about her expression tells me she’s the one sending me stuff. She has my work email, and that’s the one she used. There’s a link that redirects me to a website full of rat photos—rats of all colors and sizes. They’re actually not bad, as far as rats go.
“There’s a link on the page. You can fill it out later.” She scans the barcode on the table next. “Crab time. Finally. I’ve been dying for this all night. I was Bingo-ing hard, doing it all for the rats, but my heart was actually here.” At her words, she flushes, realizing how it all sounds. “With the crab legs.”