you were in my shoes. Besides, Stella would’ve had my ass if she ever found out.” I’m reaching for straws now, and even I can hear the weakness of my excuses.
Tiff shakes her head. “Wouldn’t hear it from me. So unless you couldn’t keep your big mouth shut, why not get a few strokes in yourself?”
“It doesn’t matter now. And I did the right thing sending him on his way, although maybe I shouldn’t have done it so . . . harshly,” I reply, setting my hairbrush down and trying not to cringe at the memory of the confusion written on his face and how he’d waited in the Uber outside even after I’d been a bitch to him. When I walked out and saw him wave, I almost caved and invited him back in, thinking we could fuck and then part ways. But I held fast, sure I was doing the right thing. But now . . . I don’t know.
I keep talking, trying to convince myself as much as Tiffany. “He was a total stranger. I should’ve kicked him out the second he came back in. And I don’t have time to play what if. What if I’d let him fuck me at work? What if the psychic was a loon? What if I overreacted? The point is, I was frazzled by the prediction and it’s over and done with now.”
Tiff looks as if she wants to argue then smiles. “Okay. I suppose I should be happy. You’re showing some progress, at least. Shit, getting an orgasm with a hot stranger, you’re a step up from me, girl. I smell some T-R-O-U-B-L-E in your future, so getcha some.”
“Not trouble, danger,” I growl, wishing I wasn’t so blabber-mouthed. I’m usually only this way before my morning coffee, but today, I needed to share my whirling thoughts and Tiff caught me at a talkative time.
“Huh?”
“His name was Scott Danger,” I explain. “You didn’t recognize him?”
“No shit?” Tiffany asks, surprised. “You mean like the big ass building in the middle of the city, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
Tiffany whistles. “With a name like that, maybe you were right to kick him out. It’s gotta be a bad sign if his name is an actual warning label.”
I ignore her joke and tug on my shorts. “Do you feel like volunteering today? Aunt May hasn’t seen you in a while. She’d love to see you.”
Tiff shakes her head, flopping back on my bed and grabbing my pillow in a tight hug. “Nope, nope, and nope. You know I love animals, but I can’t take being around cats. I turn into a ball of snot and misery. Send Aunt May my love though. I’m gonna sit back and chill, psych myself up to go to work tonight. Driving home Limp Dick and Momma Stella was a nightmare.”
Laughing, I leave my bedroom and grab an OJ and a small snack from the kitchen. I contemplate grabbing another cup of coffee but decide I might be better off spacing the caffeine rush out instead of gulping my daily allotment at once. I’ll pump myself up with sugar on the twenty-minute drive to the animal shelter instead.
Crossing Bane is really weird, mainly because I can see how much the city’s grown since I first got here. When Aunt May first opened up her place seven years ago, it was out in the boonies, on a tract of land inconveniently located at the end of a two-mile deserted dirt road.
Now, as Dolly sings to me about how it’s all wrong but it’s all right, I pass two Starbucks, a McDonald’s, a Piggly Wiggly, three housing subdivisions, and an elementary school before pulling into May’s shelter. Even if Bane has gotten fancier, the shelter still looks rundown. Its history as an outbuilding for the farm that used to take up this section of land is readily apparent.
Still, it’s got spirit, and if May only makes ends meet by depending on volunteers like me . . . well, that’s just some extra money she can spend on the precious fur babies.
I’m surprised, though, when I see a van and camera crew from a local TV station parked out front. The shelter normally gets zero attention, and we have to beg for donations. But May’s out front now, talking excitedly to someone with a WISV-TV jacket on, but she looks up as I approach.
“Hey, Maddie, my darling niece!” May says, coming forward with her arms outstretched to give me a big hug. May’s still got