She sighed heavily and went for his beer. Opened the fridge. There were only a few left.
“Hey! There’s only a few left!”
“Shut up and bring me one!”
“Fucker,” she said quietly. Pulled one out. Stuck her nail under the flip top but it wouldn’t flip. Felt like her nail was going to peel off.
She could hear the TV. That old show he always made her watch. It made her feel crazy. Coming down was bad enough without that crap.
“Sit down, Kirk. I’ve got all of Bela’s communications bugged. He can’t make a date with a broad unless I know about it. Well, I guess you want to know why I brought you here.”
She shook her head at the fake Brooklyn accent and looked for something to peel the flip-top with.
“You want to make a deal.”
Sounded like big bad Captain Kirk. She found a knife. That ought to do.
“Hey, I like that. That is sharp. That’s sharp, eh, Zabo?”
She liked holding the knife.
She heard him laugh and mimic the gangster’s voice. “Sharp. Sharp, Boss.” More chuckling, then “Hey! Beer!”
“That’s right, a deal. I want you to help me.”
She popped the can open. Turned around. On the TV a girl came up behind Kirk and started massaging his shoulders. She came up behind him with beer in one hand and knife in the other.
“Hey,” she said. “You want a massage?”
“Got my beer, bitch, or what?”
“Sharp, boss,” she said. “Let’s see how sharp.”
Prompted by Thursday Inspiration 49