Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

I glower at her, but before I can clap back with a smart
remark about what I’m about to put her ugly perm through,
Sloane interrupts.
“So the hot rich stranger is gonna be living right next door.
Lucky bitch.”
Diane tsks. “Oh no, I wouldn’t say lucky. I wouldn’t say
that at all! He has the look of a felon, you can’t deny, and if
anyone is a good judge of character, why, it’s certainly me.
You’ll agree, I’m sure. You remember, of course, that it was I
who—”
“Excuse me, ladies.”
The waiter interrupts, bless him. He sets the bowl of
guacamole on the table, puts a basket of tortilla chips beside it,
and smiles. “Are you just having drinks and appetizers tonight,
or would you like me to bring you dinner menus?”
“I’ll be drinking my dinner, thank you.”
Sloane sends me a sour glance, then says to the waiter,
“We’d like menus, please.”
I add, “And another round.”
“Sure thing. Be right back.”
The second he leaves, Diane starts right up again, turning
eagerly to me.
“Would you like me to call the police chief to see about
having a patrol car come by at night to check on you? I hate
the thought of you all alone and vulnerable in that house. So
tragic what happened to you, poor thing.”
She pats my hand.
I want to punch her in the throat.
“And now with this unsavory element moving into the
neighborhood, you really should be looked after. It’s the least I
can do. Your parents were dear, dear friends before they retired
to Arizona because of your father’s health. The altitude in our
little spot of heaven can be difficult as we get older. Six