Page 28 of Badd Ass
“It’s not your fault,” Annalisa said, her voice soft.
“Just text me your address, Anna.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll let you go now. Sorry for waking you up.”
“It’s okay.” A brief hesitation from Annalisa. “It’s good to hear from you, Zane.”
“You too, Anna. Bye.”
“See ya.”
I tossed the phone aside, rubbing the bridge of my nose. She was working midnights? Jesus. I’d dropped the ball.
I grabbed my phone again and sent a group text to Luis, Oscar, and Cody, detailing my plan to take care of Annalisa. We’d each send her four hundred dollars a month, which between the four of us would equal to sixteen hundred a month, not a huge number, but hopefully enough to offset things for her. I got replies immediately from all three of them, agreeing to my plan. They were all still active duty with the SEALs, so they were making good money anyway, which made me suspect they’d probably kick in more without asking, just because that’s the type of guys they were. I just felt like shit for having let it go this long before checking in on her.
I got another text, this one from Annalisa, containing her PayPal account details, and a note saying that if we really wanted to help out, it would be easier to send money digitally than writing out a check and sending it in the mail, which was what I’d planned.
I forwarded this update to the guys, and then created a PayPal account for myself and linked my Navy Federal account to it, and then immediately sent Annalisa a thousand dollars.
I’d been in the Navy for ten years, most of that as a SEAL; I’d never spent much on myself over the years, never bought a car or any expensive shit, so I had quite a lot of money banked. The bar was slammed all the time now, which meant all of us were making insane bank each night we worked, which I stashed in my account and rarely touched, only adding to my nest egg. Meaning, I could afford to shoot some cash to Annalisa. I was tempted to send more, but I knew the other guys would be doing the same thing, feeling similar guilt and obligation, and I also knew if we went too far overboard Annalisa would refuse to accept it.
I was at odd ends again, now. Trying not to think about Marco, trying not to think about Annalisa, trying not to think about Mara...what was left to think about? Not a lot.
So I went down into the storeroom under the bar, slid a pair of forty-five plates on each side of the bar and started benching until I was shaky.
When in doubt, work it out. It doesn’t solve any problems, but it’s a better way of pushing aside your problems than drinking.
Especially at six in the morning.
Fuck me; it was going to be a long day.
Chapter 7
Mara
ImetClaire at a nearby diner at nine the following morning, feeling refreshed even though I’d not fallen asleep till well after two and was up again by seven thirty. I normally need a lot more than five hours of sleep, but something about the way I’d fallen asleep had made me sleep more deeply than normal. I wasn’t about to examine that too closely, though, because I suspected it had everything to do with Zane and the multiple orgasms.
I arrived at the diner first, so I got a booth and settled in to wait for Claire; punctuality wasn’t really in her repertoire of personality traits, you could say. If we were supposed to meet at nine, she might show up at eight and sit drinking coffee and working on her laptop for the next hour, or she might not show up until fifteen or twenty minutes past the meeting time. She just…didn’t have a solid grasp on time, and it was something I’d just gotten used to over the years of knowing her.
Today, thankfully, she showed up only ten minutes late, a spring in her step and a mischievous smile playing on her lips.
She sat down and immediately stole my coffee. “Ohmygodcoffee. I got up like ten minutes ago and ran straight here.”
“Up late partying, huh?” I asked, knowing what the bounce in her step and the shit-eating grin meant.
A passing waitress brought a mug over for Claire and poured her a fresh cup, and Claire started slugging it back steaming hot and black. “I dunno if I would call it partying, exactly,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at me suggestively.
“Partying...on your back?”
She giggled. “Um, more like partying doggy style, and then standing up partying, and then shower partying, and then reverse cowgirl partying.Aaandthere might have been some absurdly high quality muff diving, and then some really quality fellatio. And then something brand new even for me: post-party snuggle time. Which I highly,highlyrecommend, by the way.”
“Well damn, girl, that’s a lot of partying.”
She gave a sassy flip of her hair. “What can I say? I’m a party girl.”
I laughed. “I think I’m reaching semantic satiation with the word ‘party’, my friend.” We paused to order, and then when the waitress left I turned back to Claire. “So, who was the lucky guy? The guy from the bar bathroom?”