Page 42 of Haunted
“You’re shitting me. Is she like a Playboy centerfold?” Crank asks.
I scoff. “Hardly. Hang on. I get my phone out, open the Facebook app, and then search for Serena’s profile. Here you go,” I murmur, handing my phone to him.
“Damn man, has she put you in the poor house with all the work done on her face and tits?”
“She doesn’t have work done,” he denies at once. “Really, Daphne, is this the kind of trash you hang out with these days?”
“Sorry, Dane. You know how us little people are. All I was ever good for was to put you through law school and wait on your ass while apparently you were fucking around me with my ex best friend.”
“So bitter. You really should work on yourself more.”
“Hey man, let me ask you something. If your new chick falls out of bed, does she bounce up to the ceiling?”
“Oh my God, Crank,” I laugh, picturing that in my mind.
“What? he asks, clearly having a lot of fun taunting Dane. “It’s a real question. Those tits are bigger than a basketball.”
“What do you do? Own strip joints?”
“I’m a lawyer and I’m preparing for a run as Circuit Court Judge. You should watch how you speak to me or anything about my fiancée. I’m not a man you want an enemy of.”
“I’m just asking legitimate questions. This chick could impress people connected with a strip joint.”
“She’s not a fucking stripper!” Dane growls. I know I should stop this, but honestly, I’m enjoying it way too much.
“Oh! I know! A female wrestler. She’d make a hell of a lot more money if you entered her into those fights where water and Jello are used. You could let the crowd vote on what shakes harder when she jumps, her tits or the Jello. I bet people from the crowd would pay extra to lick the Jello off her?—”
“Shut the fuck up,” Dane growls.
“Whatever you say. Didn’t mean to piss you off. I was just admiring your side piece, since she clearly wants men to dothat. Every picture in her profile shows her in clothes she can barely hold together. I swear a couple of those buttons are only hanging on by a sheer miracle.”
“Daphne. I need to speak with you alone,” Dane says, after giving Crank a hateful look.
“I guess it’s a good thing you don’t have a plastic allergy,” Crank adds, as if Dane hadn’t even spoken. I’m tempted to let him continue but really, I just want Dane to leave.
“What on earth do we have to say to one another, Dane? Just talk to my lawyer,” I dismiss. The last thing I want is to talk to him, or worse, be alone with him. “However, since you’re here, would you like to see your daughter?” I ask, figuring he will turn me down. I can have Crank as a witness. I’m gathering as much proof as I can to show how he doesn’t even want to spend time with Cammie.
“I don’t have time, I’m already late,” he says immediately. I know if Cammie could hear him, she’d be glad. At one time she wanted to spend all her time with her dad. He destroyed that. She’s more than a little afraid of him now, which makes me feel like a horrible mother for staying with him for so long. The fact he turned down a chance to see his daughter—especially since he missed his last visitation and hasn’t seen her since Cammie’s birthday—where he left early after making a scene—is sickening.
“You really are a piece of work, Dane. If I agree to speak with you privately, will you leave quickly so I don’t have to look at your face?” I ask.
“Trust me, I have no desire to stay here with you and the junkyard dogs that you seem to hang out with these days,” he grumbles.
Crank replies by first, growling like a dog, drawing out the noise. “Grr …” I have to admit he sounds ferocious. He follows it up by making a high-pitched barking noise, but it’s more jarring than scary. “Ruff!”
Dane jumps back two steps, falls back into my island and almost falls. I can’t hold my giggle back, which pisses Dane off even more.
“Maybe I need to tell my lawyer the reception I get when I come by to talk to you about our daughter and some worries that I have about her safety.”
I roll my eyes. “Crank?”
“Yeah, Skittles?”he says with a smirk.
“If you were so worried about your daughter that you dropped by your ex’s house to talk to her unannounced—obviously because you were so-o-o worried.”
“Obviously,” Crank snorts after I draw out the word so.
“Don’t you think you would at least want to see said daughter?”
