“I love you,” he said to her back.
“Not as much as I love you!” she called as she walked down the stairs with Cooper racing to beat her to the door.
“You’re a tough guy to get in touch with,” George pointed out when he finally got Jesse on the phone. He turned his back to the customers and faced the back of the bar.
“It’s football season, man. I told you this time of year would be hard. What’s up besides Stella beating the shit out of you?” he asked jovially. “Is that a sex thing? That’s kind of hot. I mean, not you, but her.”
A noise of protest escaped George’s mouth but died on his lips. Ignoring Jesse’s rambling, he launched into the reason why he’d been trying to get in touch with Jesse. “I figured out why we couldn’t find Jamie.”
“Why’s that?” Jesse countered.
“Because he’s back in DC, in the ATF.”
“You’re fucking with me.” Jesse’s voice was almost a growl. “How long?”
“I wish, man.” George fiddled with a tap that’d been leaking. “You should’ve seen his face.”
“Wait, that’s who you got in a fight with? You beat his ass?” Jesse asked, amused.
“Fuck yeah, I did. He waltzed out of Patrick’s house like he owned the motherfucker. I fucking tackled his ass,” he boasted. “I bet I broke his fucking nose, too.”
Jesse chuckled. “Damn, dude. I wish I would’ve seen that.”
“Yeah, that part isn’t what’s all over the internet, though. Only that El kicked my ass,” George hissed, annoyed as usual at the media. “Sometimes they blame it on you as the jealous other man, but usually it’s Stella. #fbibeautybeatsmorethanbartendersballs.”
“Ha!” Jesse laughed out loud. “You have to admit that’s funny.”
“No. It’s not funny,” George rebuffed.
“It is. The media doesn’t know shit and just assumed she kicked your ass. I mean…come on.” Jesse’s laugh filled George’s ear. “She is one badass chick.”
“Whatever,” George said, annoyed; he didn’t see any humor in telling everyone that his girlfriend beat him up. “What do we do now?”
“Well.” Jesse was silent for a moment. “I mean, we know where he is now, right? What do you want to do next?”
“You know what I want to do next.” George lowered his voice. “We just need to figure out how to do it.”
“I might know some people who know some people.” Jesse blew out a breath. “Give me a few days.”
Stella opened the door to the Challenger SRT8 and a sound inadvertently slipped out. She looked at George and caught him smirking at her. He’d told her to act like she didn’t like the car that much in front of the salesman, but she couldn’t help herself. It was a muscle car, powerful and perfect for her—pure, unadulterated sex on wheels with a shiny royal blue paint job and white stripes down the middle of the hood. The grey leather inside was shiny and filled her nose with the most delicious smell. She was practically salivating. It had a stick-shift. This is my fucking car.
The salesman was in his forties and had a small beer belly that rubbed up against her when he dropped the keys in her hand. She slipped into the driver’s seat while the salesman tried to fit himself into the backseat. George plopped down happily into the passenger seat and patted her thigh indulgently.
Stella turned the key in the ignition and her entire seat vibrated with the power. Her eyes widened. “Oh shit,” she said gleefully.
“What?” George asked, laughing at her reaction.
“I think I just had an orgasm,” she laughed.
George’s laugh filled the confines of the car. The salesman looked aroused but uncomfortable.
“If that’s the case, I’ll buy it for you right now,” George offered.
Stella’s eyes didn’t move from the road as she accelerated on a straightaway. The entire car warmed her heart and filled her soul with longing. “This car…” Stella clamped her mouth shut before she said something else sexual in front of the salesman.
“We’ll take it,” George confirmed, his eyes twinkling. He turned in his seat, facing the salesman. “Seriously. I will write you a check when we get back.”
“No,” Stella shook her head, “I’m buying it.” She wouldn’t mooch off George. He had enough mooches following him around.
“Let me get this for you, Love,” George pleaded, “and me.” He gave her his biggest dimpled smile.
“Negative,” she smiled at his dimples, “I’ll pay for my own shit. You already pay for too many things that aren’t for you.”
“You think seeing you have an orgasm every time you crank this car isn’t for me? That’s where you’re wrong.” He pointed at his lap.
She shook her head, laughing. “George, I really appreciate it, but I’ll be buying this myself.”
He stared out the window, defeated.
The salesman cleared his throat. “Will you be writing me a check as well?”
Stella smiled as she pulled back into the lot. “Damn right I will.” The car made her happy. Not much genuinely made her happy, but this car did. And if she could buy happiness, she would buy it with Jamie’s money.
Stella was cutting romaine hearts for the Caesar salad to go with the grilled chicken and veggies George had on the grill. She uncorked the wine and they were just waiting on her parents to get there. They’d called earlier and had checked into the Westin near Old Town. George put on his iPod and they were listening to The Lumineers. She swayed her hips to the beat of the song and hummed along.
Cooper was walking around in the kitchen like he was hungry. She leaned down and rubbed behind his ears, noticing the fur on his face was starting to turn white with age.
“I already fed you, pal.”
Cooper shook his ears back and forth. Stella went back to dancing around the kitchen, stopping when Cooper stood on his back legs and put his huge paws on her chest, wanting to dance with her.
“Oh, you want to dance, huh?” Stella put down the knife and danced with Cooper. He had loved dancing with her, and that bastard, Jamie, when he was a puppy. She hadn’t danced with him in too long. She tried not to move around too much; his hip seemed to be bothering him earlier.
The doorbell sounded and Cooper hopped down to bark at the front door. Every time he let out a loud, protective bark he would shake his head, like his own bark hurt his ears. Stella smiled as she opened the door and saw her parents standing on the front stoop being photographed.
“Sorry,” she said apologetically, pulling them in. “I was hoping they’d be off chasing someone else tonight.”
“Well, I don’t know why we’re shocked. We see it every fucking day on the news. Like people aren’t getting killed overseas or something. Hey, baby.” Her dad hugged her and looked around their house. Both of her parents rubbed Cooper’s back as they entered the den area.
“It’s going to be a very long ride home,” her mother said, narrowing her eyes at her husband and kissing Stella’s cheek. “Where’s George?”
“At the grill.” Stella motioned them further into the house. “So this is where we live.” Her parents scrutinized the decorations, the mess, and her appearance; she could see it in their eyes. “Dad, why don’t I get you a scotch and you can go help George with the food?”
“Sure,” he said, following her into the kitchen. Her father had aged since she’d seen him a few months ago; his white hair somehow looked whiter and his wrinkles had multiplied.
“You okay?” Stella asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” he almost grunted. He took the drink and walked outside on the back porch.