crook takes pawn part 44

"When will your car get fixed?" rebecca asks, stretching over to talk into his ear. The lounge wasn't nearly as loud as other establishments, but the various people's conversations all swirled into one asynchronous mess, making it slightly hard to hear.
"They said it should be done by Monday," Greg answers, "I actually wish it would take longer. I really like that donor car."
"I know, right?" Rebecca says, patting his shoulder, "the other car looks nice, but it's too bad it gave out on you."
    Rebecca drains her drink and asks for another. Greg is on his second beer. He orders a Captain and Coke.
"Last week, I got a flat tire," Rebecca informs, "and I was so freaked out, I didn't even leave the car. I just called my car insurance and they came and changed it for me. I feel a ton of anxiety lately. Like something bad is always gonna happen."
    Rebeccas eyes go wide in this retelling, and she sweeps one hand out, knocking over her martini glass. Greg can see her back tense, and the cords stick out lightly on her neck. She looks about the same as Greg felt while going through his own difficulties. Greg scoots his chair around the little table so he is directly next to her. He brushes the waves of her foxy hair away off her shoulder.
"You need to relax," Greg says firmly. His hand rubs her back again. That's twice today. Her body loosens a bit, slacking back down to comfortableness. He massages one tight shoulder slowly, deliberately. He feels her ribcage press against his forearm as she sighs.
"That feels so good," She tells him. His right hand joins his left, now kneading both shoulders. She reclines her head back until he can feel her hair draped in his face. He sucks in her fragrance greedily.

Greg's mixed drink arrives alongside Rebecca's. Rebecca plants a $20 and waves her hand in a dispatching move.
"Keep the change, ya filthy animal!!" Rebecca says in another craggy gangster impersonation. Greg looks abashed to be caught pawing at her, but the waiter is discreet. After delivering the drinks, the waiter smiles and leaves the two buzzing lovebirds to their intimacy. Rebecca shifts in her seat and looks at Greg with a puzzled expression.
"that's the scar, isn't it?" She says, pointing to his discolored flesh. Greg nods, unmindful of the intense concentration on her face. Her hand reaches out and grazes his healed tissue. Greg does not mind. He minds even less when she swoops in and begins to neck with him. Her kisses tickle him at first, and he utters a shrill laugh. Once he becomes accustomed to her pouting mouth, the laughs stop, but his grin widens. She begins to suck harder. He can feel his flesh feed into her mouth. Greg's eyes roll back into his head marginally as she begins to whisper to him.
"Thank you, GregI want to make it up to youYou know what I want to do"
    She hopped forward on her chair. The legs rattled a little bit as they scratched the floor. She positioned his knee between her legs and rubbed against it, while still doing a number on his neck. Holy crow, this broad was like a bitch in heat, Greg thought unspoken. This was a public place, but she was going apeshit. Her casualness towards sex was unexpected. But, Gus had made just such a prediction, hadn't he??? Some single mothers were easy. Rebecca certainly didn't appear to be difficult at all. Maybe her earlier partying days had left her uninhibited.
    Their x-rated interaction was broken up by the doorman from earlier.
"Aw, get a room, you two!!"

    The entire place shuffled over to their location gradually. Greg could feel it. The party was centering on them. The doorman stopped to sit and chat with Rebecca Briefly. Greg couldn't recall his name, and didn't ask. It was obvious the guy was there to talk to Rebecca. Greg could sense an effort on the part of the doorman to flirt with Rebecca.
    Greg did not feel threatened. As Greg hung back and studied their interplay, Rebecca seemed uncharacteristically reserved. Her arms were crossed and she kept trying to steer the conversation back to Greg, but the pushy guy kept drawing her back. Finally, Rebecca pulls her chair in close to the table, away from the indifferent jerk. Rebecca kept it friendly, but Greg knew by her posture she was not into him. She waved goodbye as the guy returned to his post. Greg decided it was just her maintaining a good relationship with an employee of the club. The guy did in fact skip them to the head of the line, after all.
    some guys might get jealous or suspicious of any interaction with their girlfriend. Greg could be practical. he would have to be, if they were going to be a couple. Hot women always attracted attention. Greg would just have to get used to it.
    A couple at the nearby table bought Rebecca and Greg a pair of shots. It was called a duck fart, and for some unknown reason the description fit the bill. Greg stood with the couple by the bar and did a shot with them all. Rebecca guffawed with laughter as more and more alcohol took hold. She got even zanier once she had some liquid help. Greg took a picture of Rebecca posing with the couple. Greg did not feel neglected at being left out.
    After their snapshot session, Rebecca handed her phone to the couple  and leapt into Greg's arms. Greg was caught unaware, and for a terrifying moment, thought he would reel over backwards and plunge to the floor with her. But he maintained his balance. Rebecca was not heavy. Greg shifted his grip on her, with her situated on his forearms, his hands wrapping about her waist and behind her knees. Greg had the first authentic happy smile in a long time, and it showed in the digital photograph. Rebecca sprang from his grip and immediately checked the picture on her phone. She laughed uproariously and clapped her small hands together.
"That's great!!" she exclaims.
"I think we better do it over,"Greg says jokingly.
"This man saved little Julie," Rebecca says, highlighting Greg's triumph, "I'm taking him out to celebrate."
    The night proceeded quickly. There was a constant mass of people at all angles. Rebecca began to tell anyone that would listen about Greg's actions. Rebecca was quite the story teller. She vaunted him to seem like a gallant man. Greg never felt like a white knight. Knights didn't have a receding hairline. Also, Greg probably would have trouble finding a horse strong enough to support his mass.
    Greg begins to get bored as everyone talks to Rebecca. Most of them are women. Greg was so used to being in a sausage party, with only guys, it was a change to be immersed in buns. Rebecca was involved in a wild exchange with a striking blonde. They were BFF's, from the look of how they fawned over each other. Greg looks over and sees the girls date sitting beside him, as if waiting to strike up a conversation. This guy new the rules. Guys had to stay sane through their girls inane chatter.
"What's up, dude?" Greg greets.
"Not much, man. My name's Clint." Clint said.
    Clint was almost as unremarkable as Greg. They both had no real interest in getting to know each other. They were just passing the seconds until their dates grew winded. From the looks of it, Rebecca was still going strong. Rebecca interrupted Greg's dull speaking with a poke.
"My friend wants to go to the club. Do you wanna go too?" Rebecca asks.
"I don't care, whatever." Greg agrees. His drinks had taken the edge off. He was ready to continue.
    "Are you okay to drive?" Greg asked hesitantly.
"We can walk. it's not far from hear," Rebecca says, rummaging through her purse, "Have you ever been to Toad's before? That's where we're going."
"Nope, can't say that I have," Greg concedes.
"You don't get out much, do you?" Rebecca says, pausing abruptly on the sidewalk to look at him closely. Greg stops as well, feeling uncomfortable under her pointed question.
"Not really, no," Greg says plainly.
    For the first time that night, Greg feels out of place beside her. She, a captivating honey, he a whittled down big man. He did not like to be out and about amongst the beautiful, younger people. Even now, as her gal pals plodded down to the corner further along, he inwardly wished to go someplace quiet, and unexposed. He thought it would be easier to garner her attention without otherdistractions.
    She was typing away on the cell phone, texting back and forth.
"I'm just not a big bar hound, that's all," Greg says softly.
"So, do you still want to go?" Rebecca asks him.
"Yeah, I'll go," Greg answers quickly, "I never said I wouldn't,"
"When's the last time you went out to a bar?" Rebecca prods, "Can you remember?"
"Probably the Superbowl," he said. What he didn't tell her was that was last years superbowl, not the recent one a few weeks ago. Why was she giving him the third degree all of a sudden?
"I just wanted to dance a little bit," Rebecca says with a sigh,"I've been caring for Julie for so long, I need to let loose. I'm  a little stir-crazy."
    Her brown eyebrows frown together in the light of her cell phone's afterglow. She looks over to him with a ghostly glare in the depths of her pupils. Her thin cheekbones are shadowed from the light of her phone. She looks otherworldly to Greg.
"Let's go then," Greg says, motioning with his hand, "We'll cut a rug,"
    Rebecca's demeanor reverts back to her spunky self. She tosses the phone back into her purse and they make their way toward Toad's.

Uploaded 03/23/2012
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