Free Fools Paradise by Jennifer Stevenson Page B

know Weasel been after that thang all day and she din’t lay a finger on him. Yet,” Lon said, licking his lips.
    â€œI know you’re desperate for the attention,” Bobbyjay said after some thought, “but honest to God, Lon, a kick in the balls from my fiancée feels just the same as a kick in the balls from, like, me.” It was no use trying to look menacing. Bobbyjay knew his baby face was about as terrifying as the busboy’s. But he did outweigh Lon by a hundred pounds.
    â€œNo prob, buddy,” Lon said and changed the subject.
    â€œWhat you been up to?” Bobbyjay asked Daisy in an undervoice when he collected her at the end of the workday. “You kick Badger in the nuts. You did something to Weasel, I’m afraid to ask what.” Weasel had come up to him in the afternoon and apologized for stepping out of line with Daisy. For pete’s sake, Weasel Rooney! Anxiety made Bobbyjay read the worst into the glances of departing stagehands. He tried not to snarl at them. Wouldn’t do any good.
    Serene and lovely with soot on her hands, on her cheeks, across her mini-shirt at tit-level, and on her bare bellybutton, Daisy sashayed beside him, eyeing suits and being ogled in return.
    â€œI’ve got a lot to learn,” she said. “Like, what’s it mean, I’m ‘related?’”
    â€œRelated?” he replied absently. “That means some dumb ex-son-in-law or a relative who got the office to hire him even though he’s useless. Oh,” he said, as his brain caught up with his mouth.
    They were stopped at a Don’t Walk sign.
    She met his eye. “I should have listened to you. I’m sorry.”
    Bobbyjay was speechless.
    She put her hand on his bare arm. “You’ve been so great, Bobbyjay. I’ve wanted this for three years and you made it happen.” She dimpled. “Wesley will be sooo jealous! Tomorrow I’ll wear something for getting dirty,” she said, and Bobbyjay whanged up a boner. “And put my hair back.” He thought he heard her sigh but the traffic was godawful loud. She added, “I don’t want to inflame these losers any worse than I have already.”
    â€œTook the words right out of my mouth.” A flash of gratitude and lust overwhelmed him. She thanked him. She said he was right.
    She looked down at herself. “Boy, I’m a mess.”
    â€œYou look hot,” he blurted.
    Flushing, she glanced into a plate-glass restaurant window as they walked by. “You think so? Oh my God, my face is all black!” She stopped dead and scrubbed at her cheeks with her blackened hands, making it worse, and he took her hands and led her into the parking ramp. “You’ll help me with tools?”
    â€œWe’ll stop at my place and pick you up some of mine,” he said, dragging his mind out of the gutter.
    â€œI bet you have a big tool collection already.”
    Christ, Morton, rein in your imagination. “Uh, yup.”
    â€œAnd Bobbyjay? Tomorrow I want to try to be just me. Between you and your grandfather and Badger and that rude Packard guy—” Bobbyjay cringed and hoped nobody would hear her. “—Everybody’s using their pull for me and I think that’s just going to annoy people. Those dykes already called me related. So, no hovering and fussing over me, okay?”
    Bobbyjay opened his mouth, trying to find any part of this speech he could safely address. “They’re not dykes. Well, some aren’t. Liz was boinkin’ Jack Yu for fifteen years and nobody knew about it until they, like, finally got married.”
    â€œOo, scandal.” Daisy looped her arm in his and bumped against him, making him sweat. “Tell me everything.”

Chapter Twelve
    Goomba was waiting for her when Bobbyjay dropped her off. “How did it go? They treat you okay?”
    â€œFine,” she chirped, thinking longingly of a shower.