Desperate Measures(48)
Kiki shrugged. “She did. I’m not lying.”
Elizabeth decided to do something totally out of character and joined in, keeping a straight face. “She did. I witnessed it.”
Aimee rolled her eyes and bit her lower lip, before bursting out, “Fine! Okay, I said it. I admit it, okay? Geez.” She put her head down on her arm on the table. “Somebody shoot me,” she mumbled. Then she lifted her head, looking up at her admirer with a hopeful expression on her face. “Did you bring your gun?”
He smiled, bending down to sit in the booth next to her. “Nope. No gun tonight. But how about I buy you a drink?” He looked up at Elizabeth and Kiki. “You girls drinking tonight?”
“Chardonnay,” said Kiki. “Napa Valley. The bartender knows.”
The cop looked at Aimee – actually at the top of her head, since she was back to hiding her face – and said, “Do you mind if I buy you and your friends a glass of wine?”
Aimee picked her head up and looked at her friends. “Do I mind?”
Elizabeth and Kiki just shrugged their shoulders.
Aimee looked at him, suddenly all shy. She cleared her throat and said, “That would be nice, Joe. Thank you.”
He winked at her. “You remembered my name. I’ll take that as a good sign. Be right back.” He got up and went to the bar, leaving Aimee to her well-deserved teasing.
“Good pick, Aimee. A hot cop. I like it,” said Elizabeth, smiling at her, honestly impressed. She got a good feeling about him. He wasn’t flashy or roostery. That’s how she pictured a lot of cops – walking around like roosters in the hen house. This guy was more calm and collected, as if he were totally confident in his maleness and didn’t need to advertise it so obviously.
“He’s that guy,” said Kiki, “the cop who was all worried about you in the emergency room, right?”
Elizabeth cleared her throat loudly. “Hello ... need to be filled in over here.”
“Okay, quick breakdown before he comes back,” said Kiki. “Aimee was at the E.R. with a cut-open head, thanks to Jack the jackass.”
“Don’t tell Joe that! He doesn’t know what happened!” said Aimee.
“Whatever,” said Kiki. “And this cop, Joe I guess, was coming through on his way out, sees Aimee looking all sad and damsel-in-distress-like, and he takes her outside and ... I don’t know ... ,” she turned to Aimee, “ ... what happened then?”
“He asked me what happened, thinking it was a domestic violence thing, and then gave me his card with his cell on it. And he said I could call him anytime.”
“Well?” asked Elizabeth. “Did you call him?”
“What? No! Of course not!” said Aimee.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because ... well ... I guess I didn’t need his services,” she finished lamely.
Kiki wiggled her eyebrows at Aimee. “You sure about that?”
“Shhhh!” Aimee said, trying not to smile, but failing miserably.
“Did you see his hands?” Kiki asked. “Big. Thick.”
“Veiny,” added Elizabeth.
Kiki looked at Elizabeth, her head cocked to the side, saying nothing.
“What?” said Elizabeth defensively. “I notice that stuff. I like veiny hands.”
“What else do you like veiny?” asked Kiki.
“Well, funny you should ask ... ,” said Elizabeth, looking over at Aimee and seeing she was about to have a heart attack.
“He’s coming back,” said Aimee. “Stop talking about big, thick, veiny things.”
Two seconds later, Joe sat back down in the booth, somehow managing to carry three glasses of wine and one beer in his hands.
All the eyes around the table were focused on those hands. Elizabeth noticed that they were exceptionally veiny ... and thick.
“Oh my god,” whispered Aimee, before she could stop herself, staring at his hands.
Joe looked at her, confused. “What’s wrong?”
“Your ... hands ... ” She gulped.
He held his hands out in front of him, first palm up and then turned palm down. “What’s wrong with my hands?” He rubbed them a few times and clenched and unclenched his fists.
Elizabeth looked over at Aimee and thought for a second the poor girl was going to swoon, but instead, she grabbed her glass of wine and took a big gulp.
Joe picked up his beer. “Cheers.”
The girls picked up their glasses and clinked them together.