Page 19 of Because of Blake
“I’ll get it.”
“No, I’ll come, too,” I say, determined to ensure I get the drink I want and that it’s not tampered with. One can never be too cautious.
We find the kitchen fairly crowded, so David offers to get our drinks since it’ll be easier for him to get in and out than for both of us. I reluctantly agree, telling him I want a bottle of water.
“Water?” He steps close to me so our faces are only inches apart. “It’s a party Maggie. You’re supposed to have fun.”
“I can have fun and drink water, too,” I say with a tight jaw.
“Okay, coming right up.”
When David returns, he has a beer in one hand and a red Solo cup in the other. He hands me the cup with some foamy green liquid in it. “Sorry, there weren’t any water bottles, so I got you some punch.”
I frown at the cup, pursing my lips. It’s not a sealed container, but in such a crowded room, it’s highly unlikely he was able to slip anything in my drink. It may not be water, but punch is harmless. “Thank you.”
David and I escape the bustling kitchen, settling back in the living room, where he boxes me into a corner. My hackles spike, but as David sags against the wall, I release a breath.Not everyone is a creep, Maggie.
“So, Maggie, what do you do?”
“I’m a paralegal downtown at Fisher & Sons.”
“That’s quite a drive from here, isn’t it?”
“It is.” I take a sip of my punch, the strength of the flavor sitting heavy on my tongue. It’s thick, sweet, and creamy, but I manage to swallow it. “But I only work three days a week, so it doesn’t bother me.”
David takes another sip of his beer, his lips curling as he eyeballs me over the bottle. “You know, I could talk to a buddy of mine who works at Gunther, Olsen, and Brooks. It’s a bigger firm and closer to here.”
“Oh, thank you, but I like my job. They’re very good to me.”
David gives me a dismissive nod. “I’m sure they are, but at a bigger firm, you could get more hours, which means more money.”
“I’m aware, but I like working part-time. It gives me more time with my kids and–”
He nearly spits out his drink. “Kids? You’ve got kids?” The tone in his voice is blatant disappointment.
“Yes, I have two kids. A ten- and twelve-year-old. They’re downstairs in the basement, which is why I’m not drinking alcohol tonight,” I say, holding up my cup and taking another sip. This one goes down easier.
“Right. Makes sense.” David runs his tongue across his bottom lip before his eyes move up and down my body. “So, do you do anything besides work?” He changes the subject from my kids quickly and I see through him. I’ve met plenty of men like David. Attractive, charming, intelligent, but not interested in my life, only in getting into my pants.
I contemplate walking away right now, but I’m struck with the notion of my only options being Joanna or standing alone. I can endure David for a few minutes while I enjoy my punch. When I’m finished, I’ll make an excuse and head downstairs to hang out with the kids.
David continues to talk, mostly about himself. He tells me about the lavish vacations he’s taken to Fiji, Hawaii, and other such tropical places. He talks about his numerous promotions at work and the frivolous ways he spends his money. The conversation revolves around him in every aspect, only diverting to me when he pauses to sip his beer.
I’m growing tired of listening to David when a headache strikes me. I close my eyes and rub my forehead.
“Maggie, are you okay?” David asks, but not with concern, more like eagerness.
“I’m fine, thank you. Just a little headache.”
“Do you need to lie down? I can take you upstairs and find you a room.” He places his hand on the small of my back, and even though it makes my skin crawl, I stand firmly in place.
Maybe he did spike my drink after all.I open my eyes to look at him so he knows I’m serious. “No, I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Are you sure? I’ve been known to cure a headache or two in my day.” His eyebrows bob up and down in the most disgusting manner.
Luckily, I’ve learned how to deal with men such as David. “What exactly are you insinuating?”
“Excuse me?”