"No, she wouldn't."
"So half and half works for me. I am looking into getting my money cleaned, getting converted into something legit for myself."
"And where are you going to tell the IRS you are getting all this money from?"
"That's the beauty of it. Find a good launderer, and not a fucking soul could ever trace back the fake shit. It all looks like stocks, investments, careful planning paying off. Might take a while. But I got time."
"So, you might be a slacker, but you have your shit together. That's what you're telling me."
'That's what I'm telling you," I agreed.
"Gotta admit, I wasn't sure I would ever see the day Chris got where she is now, took this many steps forward."
"I wasn't sure we'd get here either, to be honest. But we did."
"Lucky you got your ass kidnapped, huh?" he asked, and I figured it was fair that my girl's dad did a little ribbing. It came with the territory.
"Lucky I had me a woman who would lift up every rock to find what she was looking for."
"They're a fearsome lot, our girls," he agreed, nodding.
"It's a good balance," I decided, meaning with our much more laid-back natures.
"Chris needed someone to show her that life doesn't always have to be so serious, so rise and grind all the time. She has been through it. She deserves to know some light and happy. And if you are who gives that to her, I'm glad you came into her life. And that is good enough for me. Well, that and all that other shit we already covered."
With those words, he moved to stand, making me get to my feet too, offering my hand.
"Thanks for trusting me with your girl."
He gave me a nod, shaking my hand.
"Oh, he called, turning back, shooting me a smirk I knew instantly not to trust. "And I hope you're comfortable with someone digging up every little speck of dirt you've ever been involved with. Way I hear it, Chris's Aunts Janie and Alex are all over your shit right about now."
"Hey, man, I've got nothing to hide. Let 'em dig."
"I like hearing that," he said, giving me a nod, climbing on his bike, and roaring off.
Me, I went back up the steps, found my phone, and shot a text off to my girl.
I was thinking we should have a nice romantic night at home tonight.
It was all of two minutes before my phone was ringing in my hand.
"Cash was just there, wasn't he?" she asked immediately, sounding amused.
"What? I didn't say that."
"You didn't need to," she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "That is exactly what he says to my mom when he wants her to cook dinner. He thinks he's so slick, but Mom has had his number for years."
'Yeah? How come she never says anything?"
"Because she likes to cook for him."
"Yeah? Think maybe you'd like to cook for me, doll?"
"I think I can manage that. If you, you know, go out and buy some things to cook with. And plates to eat food off of."
"This is sounding like more work for me than you, doll," I teased.
"I think you can manage. I'll get there around seven. I will send you a PDF with a list of things to pick up."
"Of course you will," I said, smiling like a fucking idiot all alone on my front porch.
Not five minutes later, I had a PDF in my inbox with a list that made me wonder if I would need to attach a trailer hitch to the Uber I was already going to need since I couldn't cart anything around on my bike.
By seven, I had everything home, unpackaged, and washed--as per my instructions--and even went ahead and did some house cleaning.
I could feel anticipation bubbling up when I heard the crunch of her tires on the driveway.
Before I could even slip some shoes back on, she was pushing open the door, her reusable bags dangling off her arms.
"I am going to need to take a few minutes to clean the kitch--" she started, trailing off. "Did you... did you clean the kitchen?" she asked, eyes round.
"I did. With soap and everything," I told her, rocking back on my heels. "And I made the table," I told her, sweeping an arm across it.
"Okay. We are going to pretend that the tablecloth doesn't have drunken leprechauns on it," she said, smiling.
"They're excited for our meal too."
"You're ridiculous."
"You love it," I shot back.
To that, she gave me one of her sweet smiles as she pushed past.
"Wait wait wait, I got you something," I said as she started unpacking her bags. "An apron," I told her. "I figure we have to work our way up to you cooking bare-ass naked in heels."
"Please tell me it doesn't match the tablecloth," she said, cringing.