“I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”
“Before or after we go to jail?”
I groan and hang my head. “I can’t go to jail! I’m five foot seven. That’s like snack-sized to the miscreants and ruffians!”
“It probably doesn’t help that you’re adorable,” she tells me. “There’s going to be no end to what they do to you. If prison TV shows have taught me anything, it’s that you need to find the biggest, baddest, most hard-core motherfucker in there and become his bitch. His name will be Large Tom, and you’ll have to hold his outturned pocket wherever you go. And since Large Tom is the most hard-core, no one else can touch you or they’ll get shanked.”
“They probably don’t even have vegetarian meal options in jail,” I say, my voice full of disdain. “I’ll probably be force to eat some kind of mystery meat.”
“And then be forced to eat Large Tom’s meat,” Kori says. “I am so sad for you.”
“You don’t sound like it.”
“That’s because I’m really not.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“Making you march and chant with beach hippies.”
“Yes, there is that. And?”
“And the getting arrested part.”
“Hmm. Yes. That.”
“If it makes you feel better,” I say hopefully, “I’m sure you’re going to look amazing on the news.”
The barest of smiles cracks her lips. “I do look good today, don’t I?”
“Gorgeous.”
“Flatterer. I suppose now we should discuss the elephant in the room.”
“We don’t have to,” I say hastily, knowing where this is going. I give serious consideration to making a run for Canada, handcuffed or not.
She arches an eyebrow at me. “I believe we do.”
“If I don’t end up in jail, I’ll find a way to smuggle cigarettes as currency so you have anything you ever want.”
“Why would I be the one to go to jail?” she asks.
“You look the type.”
“Wow. As nice as that sounds, I’d rather talk about Dominic.”
Shit. “Isn’t it a nice day out?”
“Quite. So, in thinking back about our past conversations regarding our arresting officer, who you pined for like a lovesick twelve-year-old girl, I do believe you neglected to mention that he was built like a fucking brick shithouse and is literally the hottest thing to ever walk the face of the earth.”
I groan. Loudly. “Can we not do this now? He might hear you!”
She glances over her shoulder to BJ’s. “Not quite. He’s still inside talking to the manager.”
“Well, then, I can hear you, and I don’t want to do this now. Or ever.” I’m pretty sure I can figure out Canadian money. I am technically considered a genius, after all. Well, except for the getting-arrested part.
“Has he always been that big?”