Boss of Me
“Your loss.” He lifts one and repeats the process. “They’re the best.”
“I was hoping for hot chicken.”
Nodding, he slides off the stool and fishes in his wallet, taking cash and leaving it on the bar. “I know the best place for hot chicken. Let’s go.”
“Right now?” Glancing back, I take one last sip of my beer and follow him out past the wooden tables filled with reclining patrons to the sidewalk. I get hung up by a waitress carrying a huge platter of food, and when I get outside, he’s waiting, lighting up a cigarette.
My nose wrinkles again as he exhales a stream of blue smoke, squinting one eye. “You’re something else, you know it? Have you always been a ball buster?”
“I’m not… It’s just… It’s such a terrible habit.”
We’re walking up South Street toward sixteenth, and I try to think of something non-ball busting to say. “Are you still considering firing me?”
He takes another pull and grins. “Nah, I think we’ll keep you on for now.”
“Where is this chicken place? Prince’s is in SoBro.”
“Prince’s is closed on Sundays. We’re going to my place.”
I stop walking, and he takes a few steps before turning to look back at me. “What?”
“Your place?”
“I played pickup with Donald Prince. I know the recipe.”
My arms cross, and I start walking slowly to where he’s waiting. “I don’t believe you.”
“You think I’m luring you back to my place on the promise of hot chicken?”
“I’m not sure what to think.”
“Are you afraid to go to my place?”
“A little.” That Sandra is one sneaky bitch. “I thought you said this was not a good idea.”
His hands are in his pockets. “Hot chicken’s always a good idea.”
“Is it?” A teasing glint is in his eye, and I feel so curious. “Okay, then. Patton Fletcher cooking me hot chicken? How can I say no?”
“That’s more like it.” He takes my hand, putting it in his arm. “You don’t have to fight all the time.”
“You’re one to talk.”
12
Patton
My insides are tense walking with her hand in my arm like this. It feels dangerous. It feels like we’re crossing a line we might not be able to uncross.
I don’t really care.
It feels good.
It feels like for the first time in a long time, I can relax.
It feels like a holiday weekend.
We’re at my building, and I hold the door as she enters, her warm, sweet scent meeting my nose. Her hair hangs long down her back, and her ass is really cute in that skirt.