Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Coffee and pancakes, then,” Dakota says.
“And for you?” the waitress says, turning.
“The same.”
She pours two mugs of coffee, then turns and walks away.
“I love this,” Dakota says, leaning forward. “Do you?”
“I especially love how sticky the seats are,” I tell her sarcastically.
She laughs without abandon. “This is real, Jack.”
“I could be in line at the DMV with you, Dakota, and I’d count myself lucky. I’m just happy we’re together.”
“Really?” she murmurs, sounding impossibly insecure for a moment.
I touch her hand. “One thousand percent.” I stand. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m just desperate to see if the toilets are as fancy as the rest of this place.”
Her laughter follows me toward the door with the chipped sign. In the filthy urinal, I reflect on the fact that we must have something here. I had a fairytale evening ready to go. Then she rejected it without explanation, and now we’re in a cruddy diner, yet we can’t stop smiling.
That means something. Surely. I refuse to believe it doesn’t.
I leave the bathroom, but only open the door halfway when I hear Dakota’s voice raised slightly. “…very kind of you. Thank you so much.”
A drawling man’s voice responds. “My daughter’s the fan, fan, if you get my meaning. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t looked over once or twice. You like them shorts that climb all the way into the ass, don’t you?”
My hands curl into fists, two invisible tennis balls rupturing in my hand. Who does this piece of shit think he is? For a shameful moment, something stops me from racing out there. If this stranger knows her, he might know me. If I go out there guns-blazing—
“Wouldn’t mind seeing if the real product compares to the screen, you get me?”
I charge out of the bathroom, ready to commit full-blown murder. When I see the skinny, elderly trucker standing next to our table, I walk up to him and stare into his little weaselly eyes.
“Who are you talking to, motherfucker?” I snarl. “You see a woman sitting alone at a diner and, what, you think you can ask to see her ass because you’ve perved on her stream?”
This prick has clearly never been punched in the face. “Hey, brother, if she’s going to put it out th—”
He shuts up when I step forward again. Close enough for him to truly understand the mistake he’s making.
“Are you concussed? Or just stupid?” Another step, forcing him to back up. “Apologize to my woman and walk the fuck away.”
“I’m—” He clears his throat. “Sorry. Ma’am.”
I look at Dakota. She’s staring up at him with white-hot rage in her eyes.
“You’re only saying that because he’s here,” she says in disgust. “If I were alone, you wouldn’t take no for an answer. At least, not my first no. I’d have to placate you. Act all nice and pretty and obedient just to get you far enough away from me that my skin would stop crawling. But no, because there’s a bigger man here, a man who could squash you like a roach, suddenly, you’re sorry.”
“That’s not—”
The man shuts his mouth when he sees me glaring at him. I’ve never been readier to hurt someone, even if it wouldn’t be much of a fight.
Finally, he turns and walks to the door.
“Lowlife,” Dakota hisses.
“What was that?” The man yells, standing in the open doorway. “Little bitch!”
“What the fuck?” I jog toward him, every inch of me burning, ready to tear his head from his shoulders.
The little rat immediately pulls out his cell phone, aiming his camera at me. This is bad. He clearly doesn’t know who I am, but the last thing I need is for a video like this to go viral. CEO Launches Attack on Trucker to Defend Streamer Girlfriend.
“This man is trying to intimidate me!” the trucker whines, voice breaking. “I complimented his girlfriend because she’s a public person. And now, he’s getting jealous and trying to attack me, a man twice his age.”
I stop, glaring at the camera. “Unbelievable,” I snarl.
He backs up slowly. “Do you want your assault on video? Is that it?”
“Coward,” I snap. “You made a lewd comment to a woman young enough to be your daughter, you bastard, when you thought she was alone and defenseless.”
“I did no such thing,” he says, seeming genuinely outraged like all lowlifes are.
“Just get out of here with your little camera.”
He leaves, the door swinging shut behind him. I turn to find the waitress aiming a camera at me, too.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
“This place doesn’t have CCTV, and you folks are getting rowdy,” she says.
Even when people don’t know who I am, it’s cameras, cameras, cameras. I’m sick of it.
“Come on, Dakota,” I say, walking over to the table and offering her my hand.
“What a jerk,” she says, taking it and rising to her feet. As we leave the diner, she calls over her shoulder, “That goes for you too, bitch!”