Mind the Thorns

Chapter 21

Regan watched as the waitress slid back to their table, a plate of miniature beer glasses balanced before her.  Despite a long stretch of partying into the wee hours of the morning, the idea of dating was still something she felt was too elusive.  It seemed finding someone at a bar to curl up with and forget the world for a few hours was an easy task.  Getting them to call again; that was considerably not so easy.

This whole date had been a bad idea, though she had been left with little choice. It was this or wonder when the police would recognize her car and resume the high speed chase she had just barely survived.  As such she really was at Dodger’s mercy.

“Thanks,” he said as Marcella put down the tray of drinks.  She quickly began to list off which beers were which, while Dodger smiled politely up at her. Regan tried to follow but got lost in most of the technobabble about brews and after tastes and hops choices.  She never was a beer drinker before her death; after it she had avoided anything but blood.  She still had no idea how she was going to fake sampling all these tastes without spitting them back up again.  It was highly unlikely that a series of beer-based spit-takes was part of Dodger’s grand plan.

Marcella had finished rattling off the choices available to her and turned to smile at her. 

“Those all sound great,” Regan said quickly, sure that none of them would taste better then bitter vinegar with a bad sawdust aftertaste.  She looked back at Dodger whose eye brows arched upwards to be visible from behind his glasses.  She smiled as sincerely as she could under pressure.  “But not as good as the waitress,” she said quickly.  “You were right she is absolutely adorable.”  She reached out to grab Dodger’s hand.  “Hon,” she added with what she intended to be a loving nod.  “I should know better than to ever doubt my true love’s taste in women.”

When she shifted her gaze to look up at Marcella she had expected to see a flattered grin and perhaps a bit of blush on the woman’s cheeks.  Instead the waitress stared back, her mouth slightly open and her tray clutched protectively to her chest.  “So,” she said slowly.  “I’ll just let you two have some time to sample and I’ll be back in a few to take your drink and dinner orders.”  Without giving either of them a chance to say anything she was gone.

“What the hell was that?”  Dodger pulled his hand out of Regan’s.

“Flirting?”  She did not think she did that bad a job of it.

Dodger adjusted his glasses.  “I’m supposed to be the one she’s nervous about, and you’re supposed to be the one that makes her feel comfortable and safe.  Congratulations, Red, you’ve managed to completely flip flop that.”

“Because I said she was cute?”

“If you had said she was cute you would have been fine.  You practically made it sound like we were going to kidnap her and feast on her roasted flesh in the grand tradition of the Donner Family.”

Regan looked down embarrassed.  “I didn’t think it was quite that bad.”

“I just want to know how you managed to have a different guy in your bed for nearly three weeks if that was your idea of flirting.”

Regan looked down. It had been a lot easier to pick up someone at a club when he was several drinks along, and all she had to do was smile, offer up a place to retreat to, and make it clear that sex was waiting.

Dodger shook his head, his hair bouncing a bit as he did, and reached for one of the glasses.  “Might as well imbibe.  I’m pretty sure you just blasted my last six weeks of work into nothingness.”

Regan sat back in her chair, glaring at him.  “Do you have to be so mean?”

Taking a long slow pull on the glass he drained it.  “Nope.  It’s totally a perk that only a select few get to enjoy.”