Ethereal Love (Book 2 LS Series)

Chapter 31

Skipper's POV

"Sit down, darling, before you attract the wrong kind of attention." X smiles up at me, while doing a once over of my body with his eyes.

"X-" "Just sit." I sigh, retreating to sit across from him, and setting my purse between my feet. "Try this champagne, it's lovely, really." I didn't pour it myself, so I don't want to ingest it. "Skipper. Be casual, and drink the champagne." He says with a little bit more force, enough to get me for actually do it.

I take a sip of the usually sweet and bubbly liquid, looking at him accusingly when I realize it tastes bitter, and too strong. "What is this?" "Where is my product?" He grins again, opening his menu to examine the offered dishes.

"You're not getting any product, because you're not a real customer." I open my menu as well, though I won't be eating any of it. "Well, earlier you said that you would only speak to customers 'at the moment,' so I became a customer." I scoff, skimming the french menu items listed below. "How very smart of you. You should just leave, before you get in too deep."

"No, I'm having too good of a time." He takes a long drink of his champagne, and I do the same. I can feel the alcohol pulling at my senses already, which is strange, because with all the experience I've had since meeting Michael, I was starting to build up a respectable tolerance.

"I have brought what your superior requested, forty grand. Now where is my product?" "You're not an druggie, X. Did you misunderstand me before? There is no product, not for you-"

"What will you be having?" An eager waiter cuts off my sentence. X orders some strange French dish, speaking with a perfect French accent. "And for you, Madam?" "Nothing for the lady," X cuts me off again, "Nothing here will suit her dietary guidelines."

"Well I'm sure we have-" "That's alright, good sir, the champagne will be all she needs." That's what I was going to say, but he could've at least asked me first.

"Well alright then Monsieur, your plate will be out soon." I stare at the golden liquid in my glass, thinking of all the pink champagne Michael had the night of the wedding. I had one glass of that, and didn't feel half as loopy as I am already beginning to feel right now. That champagne was good and sweet.

"So, what were you saying, darling? Where is my product?" "Nowhere. There's no product for you." How many times do I have to say it? He stares for a moment, irritated.

"You and I both know there is five pounds of Coke in that purse of yours," He leans in, whispering seriously, "And unless you want me to dive between your legs and get it myself, you should hand it over now. I have your money."

"You don't want the drugs, X." "How do you know that? As far as you know, I could be some raging coke addict about to steal your product and leave." I take another sip of champagne, my head is beginning to feel too heavy for my neck to support. "I know you're not a Coke addict, I don't think you've ever touched the stuff." "And how do you-" "I've been working around addicts enough to know. To be able to spot them in a crowd of people. They're paranoid, unclean, and severely aged. But you? You're too confident, your house is spotless, and I couldn't guess your age if my life was on the line."

He sighs, watching the server place some weird ravioli dish in front of him. "Twenty-six." "What?" "I'm twenty-six." Maybe I would've been in the ballpark. "It doesn't matter, X. I know you, remember?" He chews thoughtfully on his forkful of ravioli, eyeballing me with annoyance. "Whatever."

He's staring to sound like me now.

I shrug triumphantly, finishing off the rest of my drink. He watches me as I drain the dregs, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. "Do you have any more of this?" If I'm sitting here any longer, I'm gonna have to have another glass.