Page 37 of Bad Reputation
Could this date get much worse? If it can, I don’t want to know.
Rich picks up the drinks menu. “You like cocktails?”
I put my purse on my chair, lining my gaze up so that Rich is blocking Jameson. I pick up the food menu. “I don’t know. Sort of?”
Rich grabs the first server that walks by. “Hey! We’ll have a couple of tequila sunrises, right here.”
My brows knit. “I don’t drink tequila.”
“You’ll love it,” he says, picking up the food menu. “Oooh, they have a ribeye. That’s what I’m going to get. You should maybe get a salad or something.”
My mouth opens, but once again he has robbed me of words. Everything he’s saying and doing is classic bad date behavior. It’s almost like he is testing me, trying to see what I’ll tolerate.
“I don’t think so,” I say, narrowing my eyes at Rich. “I think I’m going to get the funghi pizza.”
He doesn’t so much as put his menu down. He just talks to me over it, which is beyond rude. “All right. Just don’t complain to me when you’ve gained weight, okay? I know how you women are.”
His words are so outrageous, I can’t even take him seriously.
I lean over just a bit, beyond Rich, and find Jameson still watching. He sees me looking, and raises his eyebrows.
I lean back, embarrassed that I was caught out so clearly.
The waiter brings our drinks and takes our orders. I taste the drink he put before me, but I’m immediately overwhelmed with the taste of tequila.
“Blech,” I say, pushing the drink away.
Rich just shrugs and downs his drink right away, then reaches for mine. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Rich proceeds to get drunk very quickly. He also grows more aggressive and more sexual with every drink.
“So what I’m saying is, basically, that if a woman doesn’t suck my dick, why even keep her around?” Rich says, draining his sixth drink. “You get it, right?”
At this point, I’m so repulsed by him, it’s not even funny. To have this privileged guy who smells like the worst of the gym socks telling me how he expects to get head regularly from the girls he sees? I don’t even know how he functions in day to day life. Money only goes so far to protect you.
I push my chair back, standing up. “I think we can just cut the date off here. I think it’s clear that we don’t belong together.”
“What? No, come on,” he says, drunkenly getting to his feet. “The food hasn’t even come yet. Lemme find a waiter.”
He turns to look for someone, but I just give Rich a tight smile. “I don’t think that we need the food to be able to tell that we’re not suited. I’m going to go.”
I step out from the table, scooting my chair in. I intend to leave with a little dignity, and block Rich’s phone number in my phone as soon as my Uber gets here.
“Don’t,” Rich says, his voice a growl.
I turn and hurry between the rows of tables, rushing out the door of the restaurant.
“You had better stop!” Rich yells, his footfalls indicating that he’s right on my heels.
He catches me just outside the front door, grabbing my arms and hauling me up against the rough stucco of the building. He’s sweating. When he speaks, his words are flecked with foam.
“Where thefuckdo you think you’re going?”
He slams me against the building hard enough to make my head crack against the stucco. I gasp, seeing stars.
“Nobody leaves me, especially not a damaged little rich girl like you. Your father had to beg me to even take you out, youslut.” He slams me against the wall again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the door open. Jameson steps out, takes one look at what’s going on, and completely loses his shit.