I order Monroe a French dip because everyone likes that sandwich. I suspect she wanted me to pick something weird. However, my intel on her didn’t involve whether she could handle spicy foods or liked salami.
“Weak,” she taunts as we sit across from each other with our sandwiches and pints of beer.
“We’ll go out for a few weeks, and then I’ll try again. By then, I bet I choose the one you really wanted.”
“What if we hate each other in a few weeks?”
“Then, I’ll buy my own sandwich,” I mutter, giving her a dirty look.
Monroe laughs at my attempt to seem hostile. “I can’t believe you made me pay.”
“You offered.”
Laughing again, Monroe isn’t hiding from me. She’s more like the girl I spotted with the bunnies—smiling and focused on the people around her. She isn’t shy, and I don’t sense she spends a lot of time analyzing everyone. She’s more instinct than strategy.
“Who’s after you?” I ask, feeling the direct route will work.
“A boyfriend.”
I make a buzzer sound while squeezing hot mustard on my sandwich. “Bullshit. Who is it, really? Did you steal money from someone?”
“Why would you assume I’m a thief?”
“You seem sneaky. I bet my wallet will disappear as soon as you get your hands near my ass.”
Monroe throws her head back and laughs loudly. Her expression, though, fires up, and I suspect she wants to punch me. The thief thing is a soft spot for her.
“What would you do if I stole from you?” she asks, challenging me to ruin our fun.
“Cry to my mommy, who’d beat you up.”
“Seems fair.”
“So, who did you steal from?”
“I didn’t steal shit,” she hisses, forgetting to control herself.
“Why is he chasing you, then?”
“I’m not telling you right now.”
“At least, tell me who this guy is if he isn’t a former flame. An obsessed stalker, maybe?”
“My uncle,” she says, giving up on lying.
“Uncle Hobbs?”
“No, he’s married to my aunt.”
“And did you steal from him?”
Monroe looks me right in the eyes, snarls, and lies, “No.”
“Wouldn’t care if you did,” I say, shrugging as I take a bite of my sandwich. “Is your uncle a violent man?”
“Yes.”
“Think I could take him in a fight?” I ask with my mouth full.
Monroe studies me, and I sense she might bolt. I’m pushing her too hard. Just like how I got too rude with Lowell. Usually, I finesse my filter better, but I woke up today wanting to start shit.
“Sure. He’s a middle-aged man, and you’re not.”
“I know some jiu-jitsu.”
“Nu-uh,” she says, smirking. “Where’d you learn that? There are no martial arts places around here.”
“How would you know that?”
“My spot-on investigative skills.”
“Sure,” I say, taking another bite.
“Well, my uncle wouldn’t fight you, anyway. He’d just shoot you. Or have one of his bruiser guys slice-and-dice your pretty face.”
I set my sandwich down and wipe my mouth. Watching her with a serious gaze, I softly ask, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”
Monroe licks the sauce from her lips. “Your eyes are magnetic, but your mouth keeps flapping with bullshit today.”
“You’re just pissed because I found out about your uncle.”
“You didn’t find out. I told you,” she mutters. “And you called me a thief.”
“Yeah, but we established you weren’t one,” I say while picking up my sandwich and taking a bite. “Right?”
“Yeah,” she lies again.
Gesturing toward her sandwich, I mumble, “Eat up.”
Monroe settles down enough to take a bite, but I doubt she even tastes the food.
“I thought you’d be more charming,” she says, narrowing her dark eyes.
“You want charm?” I ask and then soften my gaze. “Hey, sexy baby, how about we go back to my place? I’ll shove my mom off the couch, so you and I can get acquainted through spit transfer and chest infiltration. You in?”
Monroe both laughs and rolls her eyes. “Yeah, that’s what I was expecting. Do more of that.”
Giving her a half-smile, I gesture toward her food again. “Finish half of your sandwich, and we’ll go fool around some. But no dessert until you eat your lunch, sexy baby.”
“I don’t like that ‘sexy baby’ thing.”
“Then, what?”
“I don’t know. What did you call your ex-girlfriends?”
“Sexy baby. I’m not very creative.”
“Well, change ‘sexy’ to another similar word. Then, do the same with ‘baby.’ Bam, you’ve got a new thing to call me. I’m not looking to get sloppy leftovers from your former harem.”
“Did the bunnies tell you about my sexual prowess?”
Monroe giggles with her mouth full. “Prowess. No one talks like that.”
“I do,” I say, acting offended. “I just did. And I have bucketloads of prowess, too.”
“Stop showing off your access to a thesaurus.”
“Never, pretty woman.”
“Like the hooker from that movie.”
“She had a heart of gold, Monroe. Of fucking gold.”
“But she was a prostitute.”
Shrugging, I admit, “I guess. I never watched it.”
“Neither did I, but she was a hooker. I know that much.”
“Well, I’ll keep working on what to call you.”
“Is my name just not going to work for you?”
“Anyone can call you by your name, silly girl. I don’t want you thinking of anyone else while I’m using my prowess on you.”
Monroe giggles again, fully chill after her earlier temper tantrum. I can tell by the way she’s sizing me up that she will most definitely follow me over to my place to fool around. Of course, with the Woodlands’ women on gossip patrol, I might have more luck heading with Monroe to the Overlook. Amity can shuffle her cute ass elsewhere and allow me the access to Monroe that my dick’s been wanting for weeks.
MONROE
Conor isn’t what I expect. He’s more human, less untouchable hotshot. Or maybe, I’m just desperate for a connection now that I’m worried Lowell isn’t my father. I was especially affectionate toward Amity this morning. What difference does it make, though? If I’m not Lowell’s daughter, then what? Do these people throw me out? Or do they wait until Conor gets bored? Yeah, probably that second one.
Kissing up to Jena or Amity makes no sense, but I’m used to playing that game when I worry about ending up homeless. I used the same tactics with Immee’s family when they opened their home to Needy and me. You’d think I was a Holly Homemaker with how much cleaning and cooking I did without being asked. I was desperate to prove my worth to the people paying the bills. That’s how Needy acted, and I followed her lead.