For a woman was left unsaid and I wanted to punch him on behalf of my fellow sisters. And then I remembered I was a man. I still wanted to punch him, because I was a mister sister and that was just rude. I didn’t know if it was intentional or if he was just oblivious.
“Van Der Beek,” I said, because even if Taylor was an idiot, he wasn’t stupid, and Handbasket would probably be too on the nose.
“Helena Van Der Beek,” Darren said, sounding like he was in pain.
Okay, maybe that was a little over the top. It wasn’t my fault that James Van Der Beek made me want to Dawson his creek when I was a teenager. For some reason, I was a fan of his forehead. Don’t ask.
“I must admit to not being familiar with the Van Der Beeks,” Taylor said.
“Oh, that’s unfortunate. We’re a fun bunch. Noisy and boisterous.” I hoped he was believing all of this.
“German-Mexican descent, was it?” Darren asked, and I almost snorted my cucumber water in a very unladylike fashion. I glared at him as I used the napkin to dab my nose. He winked at me and it was unfair how good that looked on him. Such a simple act and I was more than willing to swallow his cock to the root. I wondered if that made me a bad person. Probably.
“So you were listening,” I said before looking back at Taylor. “Sometimes it’s just impossible to tell with him.”
“Mexican?” Taylor said. “I assume your family is here legally.” He laughed a little at the end, making sure we knew we were all in on the joke.
The problem was, though, that it wasn’t funny in the slightest and I was starting to get annoyed. I gave him a vague shrug. “We were all immigrants at one point.”
He looked as if he barely restrained rolling his eyes. “That’s not really an argument.”
“I didn’t know we were arguing.”
“Maybe we should—” Darren started.
“Fair,” Taylor said. “But regardless of a person’s status—”
“Oh, sorry,” I said, trying to sound as contrite as possible as I dug through my purse. “I could have sworn I heard my phone ring. Silly me. Wasn’t anything at all. How funny is that? I must be hearing things now. Darren, what are you going to get to eat? The menu here looks extensive. Do they have ham? I feel like eating ham. Like, a big thing of ham.”
“Ham,” Darren said. “A big thing of ham.”
“Doesn’t that sound wonderful?” I asked. “Also, see if they have eggrolls. I could really go for some eggrolls right now. You can order for me. Just make sure it’s exactly what I said.”
“Eggrolls and ham,” he said. “That sounds like a disgusting combination. You should feel ashamed of yourself for even asking.”
“Sadly, I don’t,” I said. “Not even a little bit. I have strange tastes. As evidenced by you.”
“Almost like you’re pregnant,” Taylor said. He paused, eyes narrowing. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
I grinned at him, razor sharp as Darren sank lower in his seat. “Of course not. I just like to eat. But would it be such a bad thing if I was? Our children would be so beautiful, Calvin Klein would hire them as soon as the afterbirth fell from my body.”
Darren started coughing roughly.
“You okay?” I asked him, wide-eyed and innocent.
“Fine,” he said, sounding choked. “Just had trouble breathing there for a moment.”
“Maybe you should get that checked,” I said. “I’d hate for you to die.” Most of the time.
“Your concern is heartwarming,” he said, lips quirking slightly.
“It wouldn’t be bad,” Taylor said, glancing between the two of us and sounding like he thought it’d be the worst thing in the world. “Certain… protocols would need to be put in place to ensure everything went smoothly. You understand. The nature of the job.”
“That doesn’t sound ominous or anything,” I said, wondering if I was really about to argue with Taylor about my right to become pregnant if I chose to. After all, he couldn’t tell me, a fake woman, what I could do with my own body that couldn’t actually have children. Who did he think he was?
(I might have been playing this role just a little too hard.)
I let it go. Because of the whole no-uterus thing. I’ve been told one of those is a necessity for getting pregnant.