Page 66 of Obey

“You happened. All three of you happened.” She hiccups, then continues as though the interruption never occurred. “I was doing perfectly fine before you three walked into my life with your expensive watches and your stupid, stupidly attractive faces.”

“Sloane, have you been drinking?”

“No, I'm at a library.” Her sarcasm has survived whatever she's consumed remarkably well. “Yes, I've been drinking. Keep up, Mister Blackwell.”

A man bursts into laughter somewhere behind her, shouting, “Tell his ass, girl!”

“And another thing!” she announces like she started with a list in the first place. “I went three whole years without dick. Three. Do you know what kind of disci... disci-plinary action that requires?”

“Discipline?” Elias supplies.

“THAT! Thank you, Elias. See? At least somebody around here has a functioning vocabulary.”

Jace clamps a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking as Sloane launches into a drunken argument about how her celibacy deserves formal recognition.

“I deserve a medal. A plaque. One of those little certificates with the gold stickers. Employee of the Month for keeping my legs closed.”

“Sugar,” Jace manages, “I don't think that's how Employee of the Month works.”

“Nobody asked you, José Cuervo.”

The stress ball drops from his hand.

“José Cuervo?” he repeats, already laughing.

“Yessss, you. Walking around with that smile and all those tattoos. Looking like everybody's favorite bad decision.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose while Jace doubles over, apparently finding this the funniest conversation of his entire life. Elias is doing a considerably better job of containing himself, although the unmistakable twitch at the corner of his mouth tells me he's enjoying it, too.

“And now,” Sloane continues, remembering her original grievance, “I can't even enjoy quality alone time without one of you showing up in my imagination. Do you know how disre... disrespectacle that is?”

“Disrespectful?” Elias offers.

“Stop helping me! I'm making a very impor'ant point!”

“Sloane,” I interrupt before she can elaborate on what she does during her quality alone time. “Where are you?”

“Somewhere with lights. Lots of lights.” There's a pause, and I hear music thundering in the background. “Why does this place have an indoor sun? That's excessive. My retinas did not consent.”

“Give me the name of the establishment.”

“See? That's your problem. Always givin' orders. You can't just ask a lady how her evening is going?”

I grit my teeth. “How is your evening going?”

“Terrible. My feet hurt, my drink is empty, and my vibrator has apparently developed a preference for man... manage... management.”

Elias lowers his head, pressing two fingers against his mouth. Jace has abandoned any pretense of composure and is leaning against the conference table, laughing hard enough to make himself cough.

“Sloane. Where. Are. You?”

“Don't use that voice with me, you lickable bastard.”

I go still.

“Because then I start thinking about sitting on your face, and honestly, Nathaniel, you've already ruined enough of my weeeeek.”

For perhaps the first time in my adult life, I have absolutely nothing to say. Jace, on the other hand, has slid into a chair and buried his face in his arms.