Asa

 

Broads sure are stupid. That was the first thought that went through my head as I shoved out of the storage room and headed back to my corner booth. Not only was I going to get Lauren Saylor and drag her home, but I'd gotten a little piece of her on the side before the plan came together.

 

So what if I'd accidentally moaned her name? I'd practically growled it when I said it. Either she hadn't heard me, or hadn't understood what I said. Hell, she'd even offered me a slice of fucking pie afterward.

 

If I had known the job would have been this easy, I probably wouldn't have tried to push her away like I had. But, it seemed, little Ms. Saylor enjoyed the rough stuff more than the average woman. Not that it mattered much. That was both the first and last time I was going to fuck her. Especially after I got her stuffed away in the car.

 

I took my spot back at the booth and immediately got Galen on the phone. My boss answered after a couple rings. “How's it hanging, Asa? You got her?”

 

“Not yet,” I whispered, looking around the restaurant to make sure she wasn't within earshot. “Got her in my sights and about to scoop her up. Just wanted to give you a progress report.”

 

Galen laughed on the other end of the line, a sound like rocks being pulverized. “Alright, big guy, you call me again when you got her. And, remember, you be careful with that one. Dalton would probably like her in one piece. And, don't forget how slippery she is. Like a fucking eel, that one.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, boss,” I assured him, “I know, I know. Call you when I got her.”

 

I hung up the phone, laughing at my boss's paranoia, shaking my head. I dropped the phone on the table and drank a big mouthful of the shitty coffee, so shitty no amount of sugar in the world was ever going to make it decent, and laughed again.

 

“Cheeseburger and fries?” a gruff voice asked from beside me.

 

I turned and looked at the man who'd run my food out to me, a big, burly guy who looked like he'd been around the worst blocks. “Yeah, that's me.”

 

The man set the plate roughly down in front of him. “Bon appetite,” he said, the French words sounding like fancy garbage coming out of his mouth.

 

I pick up the burger and dug into it, completely oblivious, not even wondering why Lauren hadn't run the food out herself. The burger was good. Real good. She'd been right. The old man who'd run the food went behind the counter and began to wipe things down. I sat there thinking, wondering about my post-coital apple pie. Something about that sounded really nice.

 

“Hey,” I called to the older gentleman after I finished swallowing down a bite of delicious meat patty, “Cora said something about getting me a slice of pie?”

 

He stopped his counter wipe mid-sweep and looked at me, the gears in his head turning. Then, it was like it clicked, and he suddenly snapped his fingers and pointed to the ceiling. “That's right! Sorry, Cora mentioned it on her way out, and I completely forgot. You wanted a slice of pie to go with your burger.”

 

“No big deal, chief,” I said cheerily back as he cut a slice of pie from one of the ones displayed beneath a glass dome on the counter. He brought the little piece of dessert around to me, apologizing again.

 

Burger forgotten for the moment, I leaned down and took a bite.

 

“What d'you think?” the older man asked as he planted himself next to the booth. “Was my wife's recipe before she passed.”

 

“It's great,” I replied, my mouth full of pie and crust. I cut another slice off and stuffed it in my mouth, closing my eyes as I enjoyed the flaky crust and the crispness of the cinnamon covered apples. As I continued to chew it hit me. He'd said something about her telling him on the way out the door. I put the fork down on the little saucer beside the pie and turned to him slowly. “Did you say she told you about my pie on the way out the door?”

 

The old man nodded. “Yep. She said, 'Hey, Al, I'm outta here. Give the guy at table five a slice of apple pie. Throw his tips in tomorrow.'” Al shrugged and just looked at me.

 

I slowly shook my head. “Anything seem off about her?” I asked as I stood up and pulled my wallet out.

 

“No,” Al said as he looked at my unfinished plate. “Not particularly. She wasn't in a rush or anything. Why?”

 

“No reason,” I said with a shrug. I looked back to Al and nodded as I dropped a fifty on the table. “Sorry, Al. Pie was great, but I gotta run.”

 

“But your pie!” Al called out from behind me as I headed for the parking lot. “And your burger!”

 

Maybe there was still time. Maybe she didn't know who I was, and she was trying to ditch out on me after a quick and rough fuck. On the other hand, maybe my slip had caught her attention, and she was ditching on a different account. Either way, if Al thought something had been up with the way I was acting, he might give her a call before I found wherever she'd been staying.

 

I stopped by the car and looked around, scanning the immediate area. Al had mentioned she'd walked out the back, but I hadn't seen a car parked out there when I'd cased the joint before parking. Without any other cars missing from the parking lot, that meant she was within walking distance.

 

Two motels were around the area, catering to truckers and general lowlifes, both offering weekly and monthly rates. My money was on her being in one of the two if she was able to walk to Al’s Diner each day. Which meant, if she made me, there was about a fifty-fifty chance of her being gone before I had a chance to find her again.

 

I crossed my heart, kissed my two fingers, and hopped into the driver’s seat of my '68 Camaro SS. Hopefully, luck was on my side for once.