Slamming the glass down on the table, he gives me a look that makes a chill run down my back. I half expect him to throw the glass at me, but in a millisecond, his expression changes to a big smile. “Nah, let’s have another. We’re celebrating.”
“Oh?” I hadn’t realized. “What are we celebrating?”
“You getting your dick wet in that fat chick.”
First of all, she’s not fat. Not in the least. Sure, she’s got curves, but they’re in all the right places. I choose to leave it alone and try to steer the conversation back to my question. “After college, I worked at a little software company in Jersey before landing the job at Morgan. It was a mom-and-pop setup, so there was no place for me to go.”
Sam snorts. “Yeah, like you’re going anywhere at Morgan.”
I guess there’s no other place for me to go except into a job like Sam’s, so he’s right. I shrug. “Were you over your department in your last job?”
“Yeah.” He’s looking angry again. “Where the fuck is our waitress?”
I turn and see her heading our way holding two baskets. Hopefully those are our wings. Sam needs some food to soak up that booze.
“’Bout time,” he grumbles as she sets the food down in front of us. “Get me another.” He holds up his glass, wiggling it back and forth in front of her face.
“Sure. Be right back.”
“Right,” Sam mumbles.
I push one of the baskets of wings closer to him. “I ordered your favorite. With extra hot sauce.”
“Nice.” He smiles down at the food. Reaching out, he grabs two or three with his fist and brings them to his mouth.
“Bones,” I say, surprised. “There’re bones, man.”
He sneers at me. Literally sneers. “I know, you fucking asshole.”
Wow.
Pulling my wings closer to me, I dig in. I plan to eat fast so I can get the hell out of here.
I eat in silence as the waitress brings him another bourbon along with two glasses of water. Ignoring the water, Sam goes straight for the golden liquid. He sips and chews his food in silence. When he’s nearly finished with his wings, he sighs, wiping off his face. He’s missed a bit around his mouth, but I’m not in the mood to tell him. Let him walk around looking like an asshole. I couldn’t care less.
“My last job was in Chicago, and they were fucking assholes.”
Finally we’re getting somewhere.
“Accused me of a bunch of bullshit. Iquit.” The last word causes some food to fly out of his mouth onto the table in front of me.
He quit? Not according to Alison. But I keep quiet, only nodding.
“Said I sexually harassed some of my coworkers.”
Some?How many is some?
“Fucking bitches. All of them.” He sips his drink, then points at me. “You need to watch your back, man.”
“Why?” I mean, I’ve never sexually harassed anyone.
I guess my question is funny, because Sam throws his head back and laughs. Hard. When he finally stops, his face turns serious again. “You think you’re above it all, don’t you,Ben?” He spits my name like he did the other word.
“No, I—”
“You and that fucking ridiculous superhero bullshit.”
Okay….
