Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

“Oh, I know. I also know your match is out there
somewhere. You just haven’t met him yet. But when you do,
I’ll be the first to rub it in your face.”
She laughs at me, clearly disbelieving. Digging into her
pocket for her cell, she says, “Good luck with that. In the
meantime, let me show you this pic of the hottie I met on the
way over here.”
She shows me her phone. The screen displays a picture of
a grinning, tanned blond guy who looks exactly like a young
Brad Pitt, sitting in what appears to be the back seat of a
sedan.
“On the way over? What did you do, flag him down on the
side of the road?”
“Uber rideshare. He’s taking me to dinner tomorrow
night.”
I chuckle, partly in admiration and partly in disbelief. “You
don’t even let the bodies get cold before you move on to the
next one.”
She turns the camera back so she can see the screen and
smiles at it. “I’ve got a number in my head I want to hit so I
can write about it in my autobiography. It’ll be a bestseller.
People love to live vicariously through books.”
“What does this one do for a living?”
“Who cares? Did you see those dimples? I’d like to jump
into those babies and drown.”
“Sloane?”
“Yeah?”
“I want to be you when I grow up.”
She smiles and sends me a wink. “Get in line.”
Just then, Mojo lifts his head from Sloane’s foot and looks
toward the dark window over my kitchen sink.
His ears prick.
All the fur on his scruff stands on end.