“Shut up, homo,” Jackie sneered at Stevie and she barely got out the “mo” part of “homo” when I lost all thoughts of peacemaking and worrying about my friends.
It was then that my head crackin’ mamma jamma snapped into place and I moved.
I took Jackie by the wrist, swung it in a wide arc, spinning her around. I ducked, positioning myself and her, I bounced her off my back and she went flying into the tables. She crashed, as did the tables and all of our drinks (and a number of empties) to the floor.
I watched Jackie struggle amongst the overturned tables, her arms and legs pumping, soaked with appletinis, cosmopolitans and rum and Cokes when I felt my hair being tugged backwards.
I reached back, grabbed both wrists of the hands that were in my ponytail and whipped one of Jackie’s friends around to my front. I felt another girl grab at me but I stayed focused and planted my feet, dropped one of her wrists and flipped her on her back using what had become my signature move. She landed with a thud of flesh on flesh, right on top of Jackie and both women grunted in very unladylike ways.
Then I dealt with the next one who was pulling at my shirt. I tagged her with a calf in the back of her knees, she teetered, I gave her a nasty shove in chest and she landed on Jackie and the other girl with a high-pitched screech.
I spun around and confronted the last two, lifting my hands and wriggling my fingers at them. I was too focused to notice that everyone had stopped to stare. Everyone, even the strippers.
“You want a piece of this?” I taunted and jumped forward once. They jumped back, bitch-pouty looks gone, their eyes were wide with fear.
I smiled at them and came back around. Jackie’s friends were up and were helping Jackie up too.
I pushed forward, shoved her friends out of the way and grabbed onto Jackie’s sweater, taking a bunch of it in both of my fists. I advanced, forcing her backward until she was at the stage. I leaned in and she had no choice but to arch her back over the stage.
“Stevie come here,” I yelled, my face in Jackie’s, her eyes wide and freaked out, my hands not leaving her sweater.
“Girlie, I’m here,” Stevie said quietly from my side, “you can let the skank go.”
“Apologize,” I snapped at Jackie, not listening to Stevie.
“I… I’m sorry,” she stammered, not taking her eyes off me.
“Not to me, you stupid bitch, to him. Apologize!”
“Holy crap,” I heard Indy say from behind me.
“You got that right, sister,” Jet muttered from behind me too.
Jackie’s eyes moved to Stevie and she repeated her apology.
“You ever gonna use that word again?” I asked when her eyes came back to me.
She shook her head (and hair). I moved back, pulled her up with me and then pushed her away from me so she staggered back into the stage.
“Am I ever going to see you again?” I kept at her.
She shook her head (and hair) again.
“Go!” I clipped.
She stood frozen.
I took a step into her. “Move!”
She moved, her friends moved, they moved as fast as their high heels would take them. I watched them go until they disappeared.
I straightened my back and cocked my head to the side quickly as I turned back to the room. The whole place, not just my posse but everyone, was staring at me.
Smithie was close, standing by Daisy, arms crossed, eyes on me.
Fuck.
We were going to be ejected, I was sure of it.
“Sorry, I’ll pay for any damage,” I said to him.
“Shit, bitch. I’m thinkin’ about askin’ you to make that a regular feature at Smithie’s.” He shocked me by saying. “Hot babe kicks ass. They’ll line up to see it.”
“Fuck yeah!” Shirleen yelled. “Girl, you are the shit.”
“Righteous,” Ally shouted.
Jet started clapping. So did Tod. Roxie did too. Indy joined in and then so did everyone else including the audience and the strippers. Daisy gave a whooping shout and Stevie hugged me.
The bouncers righted the tables and Smithie shouted, “Get these bitches some drinks!”
I was about to sit down as the applause died away when I caught Zip and Heavy’s eyes.
“You do a man proud,” Heavy said to me and the look on his face echoed his words.
Zip nodded.
I smiled and my pug wiggled in close, proud of me too.
I sat down and ordered another cosmopolitan.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Home Part Two
I’d barely got Boo and I settled in bed when my phone rang.
After Lottie’s third act we all left Smithie’s. Daisy was too drunk to drive so she left her Mercedes at Smithie’s, one of Marcus’s men came to get her and Shirleen grabbed a ride with them. Since I was in the ‘hood, I caught a ride with Lee who came in one of the company’s Explorers to get Indy, Tod and Stevie. Roxie was designated driver for Jet and Ally.
We all hugged and told each other we loved each other, waxed on about how great the night was and that we’d be best friends forever for about ten minutes before Lee grabbed Indy and my upper arms and steered us to the Explorer.
They dropped me first (if you can call Lee walking me to the door and making sure I got safely inside “dropping me”) and they took off. As I watched out the window, Indy, Tod and Stevie waved at me as Lee drove.
I weaved a bit and giggled to myself, cooing to Boo, “Mommy’s drunk!” as I walked to the bathroom, washed my face, slathered it with moisturizer, changed into a nightgown and Boo and I climbed somewhat gracelessly up into the bed.
Then the phone rang so I grabbed it.
“Hello,” I sang happily (okay, more like drunkenly).
“Go set your alarm,” Vance said in my ear.
“What?”
“Bobby just called me, told me you got home, Lee walked you to the door but you didn’t set your alarm. Go set it.”
“Okay,” I said, again happily (yes, more appropriately drunkenly) and scooted to the end of the bed.
I took the phone with me and held it to my ear as I jumped down, stumbled a little and muttered, “Shit,” before giggling.
Throughout this there was silence in my ear. Then, “Are you drunk?”
Shit.
“Um…”
Vance was an alcoholic. I was a social worker so I knew all about alcoholics. Still, I’d never read a book about how to deal with one when he was your shit-hot boyfriend (actually, I was pretty sure I had but I was forgetting in my drunken state what it said).