“But you know,” Davinder said, “I understand why she hates it.” He was back and willing to talk. “She works to pay off daycare and grocery bills. She works while another woman works to take care of our kids after school, but while that woman works, another person has to leave their kids with another, right?” He shook his head. “State-funded daycares and allocation checks, another invention of those bleeding-heart socialists.”
“So, women should stay home and raise their kids?” I doubted that’s what he meant. Davinder was a feminist.
“No, but instead of throwing money and social programs at people, the government should look into those fucking fiscal paradises and tax their rich friends.” He took his sunglasses off and squinted. “Man, it’s hot.”
I winked. “Why don’t you go for a swim and cool off there, Mr. Anarchy?”
He gave me a sardonic grin. “Nothing can cool this righteous anger.” He grabbed the book out of my hands and turned it over. “Ah, so this is how you get your porn.”