“Is that any way to talk to your employee? With that language? I could probably sue you for sexual harassment.”

“You know what I think about people who fight in court over something that could easily be settled by two adults?”

“What?”

I leaned in. “I think they’re pussies.”

We glared at each other for a few seconds, then both burst out in a fit of laughter. We laughed our asses off, until Riley walked back to our end of the bar. She smiled. “What’s so funny?”

Gia snort laughed. “Rush is a pussy!”

I plucked another glass from the rack and filled it to the brim while tears ran down my face. “Here you go, Shakespeare. You’ve earned it.”Gia didn’t give me a hard time about driving her home. That might’ve been because it was doubtful she could’ve walked the distance. After only two little Cosmos she was pretty damn tipsy. I realized just how drunk she was when she asked me to stop at the store on the way home.

“Hey…puuuuussssssy...” She hiccupped. “…can you stop at 7-Eleven?”

I looked over at her and laughed. “Sure, my little cunt, I’d be happy to.”

We both burst out laughing as she played with the little angel that dangled from my mirror as we drove.

“Where’d you get this?” she asked.

“My grandmother. When she died, my mom told me I could take anything I wanted of hers. Jewelry or whatever.” I lifted my chin toward the angel. “That’s what I took. She had it hanging in her car. She was the sweetest lady. But cut her off while driving and she’d let out a string of curses that could make a trucker blush. When she calmed down, she’d kiss two fingers and touch the angel.” I shrugged. “It just reminds me of her.”

“So you get your penchant for foul language from your grandmother, huh?”

I chuckled. “Never thought of it. But maybe I do.”

“Huh,”she said, as if she’d just realized something.

I side glanced over at her and back to the road. “What?”

“You’re a man.”

“I’m glad you noticed.” I smirked. “It’s probably my lack of a pussy that gave it away.”

“I meant you’re a man, and you talk about your mom so nicely and remember your grandmother so fondly. And yet you don’t get along with your dad.”

“And…”

“It’s the opposite for me. I have no maternal role models. My mother took off when I was two. I don’t even remember her really. I never met my grandmother on her side. My dad raised me alone, and his mother lives in Italy, so I only met her a few times when she would come visit. And I don’t speak Italian that well, and she doesn’t speak English.”

“Your mother took off when you were two?” I pulled into the 7-Eleven parking lot and parked.

“Yep. I found a letter she wrote to my dad saying she was missing the maternal gene and wasn’t cut out to be a mother. She had packed a bag and took off. Never heard from her again.”

“Shit. That’s worse than my asshole of a father.”

She sighed. “Parents.” Opening the car door, she asked, “You want anything? I’ll just be two minutes.”

“No. I’m good. Thanks.”

A few minutes later she came back to the car. I was curious what we’d stopped for, but figured it might be tampons or something so I didn’t ask. Although my curiosity was satisfied when she opened the brown paper bag and whipped out a huge bag of Swedish fish. She tore the thing open like she was starving.

“That’s what we stopped for? Candy?”

“What else do you go to 7-Eleven for at midnight?” she said.

“Umm. You go for tampons, condoms, or beer. That’s what a midnight 7-Eleven run is for.”

She shoved the bag toward me. “Fish?”

“No thanks. I don’t eat candy.”

“What?” She said it like I just admitted I’d killed someone.

“I’m not into sweets. I don’t even know how you drink that Cosmo crap. Taste like pure sugar to me.”

She tore a fish’s head off with her teeth. “That’s what makes it so delicious.”

I shrugged, staring at her teeth. I bet they’d feel fucking awesome sinking into my flesh. Clearing my throat, I diverted my eyes back to driving and backed out of the parking spot. “To each his own. Just not my thing.”

She pulled another fish from the bag and waved it at me while she spoke with her mouth full. “What’s your thing?”

“My thing?”

“Yeah. Everyone has a vice. I eat sweets when I’m happy or sad. What do you do?”

“Not sure I have a vice that goes with happy or sad, but I smoke more when I’m pissed off.” I also liked to fuck hard, when I felt rage—which was usually when I was forced to be anywhere in the vicinity of my father. But I decided to leave the latter off, considering Gia was my employee.