Read Online Quirks & Kinks by Laurel Ulen Curtis - Free Book Online Page A

but he liked you. You’ll do fine all on your own. Let me know how it goes!”
    The demonic little voice in my head promised swift retribution.
    But there was no turning back now.
    I was already here. In the parking lot of El Loco. And the longer I sat out here, the more I feared being the victim of a carjacking.
    It was now or never.
    My door squealed loudly as I kicked it open, climbed up and out, and straightened my jean skirt down the line of my thighs.
    Locking the door manually, I checked to make sure I had my key in hand, and then gave it a shove with my hip to slam it shut.
    The idea of locking my car made me laugh, but it was all I had. Unless I won the lottery—which wasn’t likely since I didn’t play—or got invited to star in the next Fifty Shades of Grey, I was pretty sure holding onto my piece of junk was my only current option.
    A slapping rhythm took shape as I walked, courtesy of my flip flops, and an already heavy door felt downright immobile in my hand as my nerves swelled and swooped from the top of my head all the way to the soles of my feet.
    It took a solid thirty seconds before my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, and by the time they finally did, a tall brunette woman stood waiting for my attention.
    “Hey, you’re finally looking at me,” she noted. “That’s cool.”
    “Yeah, sorry,” I apologized, feeling less combative than normal. “It takes my eyes a while to adjust after being shocked by the light. Something about photophobia and light eyes.”
    She smiled.
    “I’m not actually sure,” I continued to bumble. “I kind of tuned out the doctor when he told me what the hell it meant.”
    Amusement lit the chocolate brown of her eyes as she asked, “Table for one?”
    Coughing through my discomfort, I couldn’t help but blush a little. “Uh, actually, I’m looking for someone.”
    She raised a mocking brow. I tried my best to ignore it.
    “I’m not really sure about his schedule, but is, um, Anderson working by any chance?”
    Her attitude changed from teasing to knowing.
    “I see.”
    But she didn’t see. She really didn’t.
    I floundered a little trying to convey just how much she didn’t know.
    “No, no, no . . . I mean, no.”
    “Right.”
    “No, I’m looking for him about work.”
    “Waitressing? Because he’s not in charge of hiring—”
    “No, no. Not waitressing. Um, acting. An acting opportunity.”
    “What’s your name? I can tell him you were here,” she offered, pulling a pen from her apron.
    Fuuuuck. This had to be one of the most awkward experiences of my life.
    “No. I mean, thanks. But I really need to speak to him now. Like, soon. The job is kind of time sensitive.”
    “Sure it is. A time sensitive, life or death acting job. I hear about those all the time.”
    Were those new bruises forming on my arms? Christ, this girl was beating the hell out of me.
    Truth was, we probably would have been great friends under other circumstances. Ones where I had the luxury of time, and I didn’t want to stab her in the eye.
    “Do you know where he is or not?” I asked, done jumping through hoops.
    “Manhattan Beach. Twenty-sixth street. Surfing.”
    Glancing down and pulling my watch from underneath the edge of my long sleeve, I cringed. Four o’clock on a weekday. “Manhattan Beach? It’s gonna take me twenty years to get there.”
    She smirked and clicked the pen in her hand gleefully. “Yep.”
    Fuuuuck.
    “Thanks.” I guess.
    “Yep,” she said again with a gleam in her eye.
    Backtracking swiftly, I shoved open the door and dug around in my bag for a cigarette on the way to my car. Clenching it and my lighter in one hand, I used the other to shove the key into the hole in the door and turn, yank the handle, and throw myself down into the seat.
    My left hand turned circles, the crank of the window giving me my only exercise for the day, and my right fired the ignition. Foot on the brake, I lit my cigarette and placed it between my lips