Page 50 of Long Way Down

Her mouth fell open and her eyes flew wide in mock surprise. “Shut up.” She batted lightly at his shoulder. “It is not.”

“Oh, it really is. You wanna know why?”

Her grin turned delighted. “A dog name for a Dog?”

He leaned in close – close enough to smell wine on her breath and to see the burst capillaries in the whites of her eyes; close enough to feel the body heat radiating off her exposed chest, where her breasts threatened to spill out of her tube top. He laid a finger on his own cheek, right over his freckles. “Spots.”

She laughed, a loud smoker’s cackle. “Oh, that’s good. You do have ‘em.” She traced his freckled cheekbone with the pad of her pointer finger. “Spots.” She hummed, pleased, and her finger skimmed down his throat and hooked in the neck of his hoodie. “Okay,Pongo. Since you’re so cute, and I’m curious, you wanna buy a girl a drink and show her the rest of your spots?”

He leaned sideways, elbow on the bar, at his leisure. “Well, now, that depends. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She tipped her head, hair cascading over her shoulder. “Cordelia.”

“Cordelia. That’s fancy. Like a real princess.”

She simpered.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “Yeah, I think I’ll buy you a drink. What do you want, doll?”

She stood, careful to flash him again. She leaned in close, lips and wine-breath at his ear. “Champagne. I’ll be in room fifteen.”

He turned around to watch her mince her way to the back hall and the staircase beyond, in case anyone who counted was watching him. Then went to the bar and bought two flutes of champagne.

Upstairs, it became apparent that some care had actually been taken in the place’s appearance downstairs. Upstairs, the carpet was industrial gray and badly stained; the tube lights in the hall flickered like something out of a horror movie.

He tapped on 15, and the door swung inward under his knuckles. The light was a little better here, but not much. It was a tiny room, occupied by a sink on one wall, a window with AC unit on another, and the head of a stripped-down bed on the other. It was nothing but a mattress with a black fitted sheet that he had no desire to sit on, not even clothed. Cordelia was perched at the end of it. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs as he entered and shut the door, her gaze going low-lidded and anticipatory.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” she said, as he thumbed the door lock and then offered the hand that balanced both flutes. “That woulda been a shame.”

“Sorry. Go ahead and take both, I don’t want one. I was talking to your bartender for a sec.”

She’d taken one glass straight off. She blinked at his words, expression falling, and then slowly took the other. Disappointment turned down the corners of her mouth. With a stroke of sympathy, he realized he was the best looking guy she’d seen all month if the others downstairs were anything to go by.

“With her?” she said, sourly. “She doesn’t come upstairs.”

“Yeah, I figured not. But I wanted to give her my number.”

She let her crossed leg fall back to the floor, without a shred of seduction this time. “What for?” she asked, the purr gone from her voice.

“I’ll be straight with you, Cordelia.” He perched an ass cheek on the edge of the sink across from her.

Snorted. “What? You’re gay?”

“Nah. But I’m not here to get us both sweaty. I’m after information – and I’ll pay whatever you wanna charge me for my time.”

Somehow, her face fell another fraction. Like that, he saw that she was probably closer to fifty than he’d originally thought. She put one of the glasses to her lips and drained it in a few practiced swallows. “Fuck,” she said, and burped quietly behind closed lips. “This is about that freak, isn’t it? The one Kat was asking about?”

“Yeah. Also – what’s up with that guy? What does he do? Why is he all mysterious?”

She arched a brow. “You wanna ask about him or the john?”

“The john,” he said with a sigh. “Kat’s a mystery I’ll just have to solve on my own.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You sure you’re not gay?”

“My girlfriend would be super disappointed if I was.” It tasted good in his mouth,girlfriend, especially in conjunction with thought of Dixie last night, soft, and slick, and begging quietly beneath him when he finally got her pinned down on her sheets.

She shrugged. “Fine. I’ll tell you what I know – but it ain’t much.”