“And did you eat lunch? Dinner? Pop over to Goode’s Diner for a snack and a chat?”
“No.As you know, I find the chicken at Goode’s seriously subpar.”
“Uh huh. You avoid it because of the chicken.”
“Subparchicken.” I lifted my chin. “Yes.”
Goode’s Diner was where Jamie worked as a cook, and I’d avoided the place for a while now, but I hardcore refused to go there after Brian and Jamie had gotten back together. Thelastthing I needed was to see the two of them all happy andtogether.
I mean, not because I was jealous of Brian or anything. I wasnot. The geopolitical landscape of the world had changed a dozen times since Jamie and I had been athing. Cities had literally risen and others had fallen. I’d only wanted for the two of us to befriends. To be able to hang out together. To see him smile at me. To have him answer the damn phone when I called. To maybefinallyhave him explain why he’d needed to remove me from his life entirely after he broke up with me all those years ago. To show him that I’d changed—that I wasn’t the same needy, weak little nerd I’d been back then.
And sure, he was possibly better looking than he’d been when we dated before, with his broad shoulders and heavy auburn beard, but I wouldn’t want him now if he was delivered to me with chocolate sauce and a cherry on top. Not if he was covered in butter and cinnamon sugar. Not if he was arranged on a bed of lettuce with an apple in his…
Uh.Never mind.
“Did you eat at all?” Dana asked, and I had to blink to remind myself that she was talking aboutdinner.
“Yeah. Yeah, I went over to Lyons Imperial to grab a sandwich.”
Dana tightened her ponytail like she was preparing for battle. “So, by your estimation, how long has it been since you’ve talked to a real person? Someone besides Vera and Laverne?”
“Her name isLucille,” I snapped.
Then I winced.
Okay, it was possible Dana had a point.
“Have you seen that Tom Hanks movie with the bloody volleyball, Parkie?”
I sat down hard on the edge of my bed. “This is not the same thing at all.”
“Except, it kind of is. Plants need the right water. Humans need… other humans.”
Or one particular human.Fuck my life.
“I’m fine. I just don’t feel much like going out these days!” I told her brightly. “Dennis Rodman’s stalking my every move.”
Dana’s eyes widened like I’d confirmed my insanity. “The basketball player?”
“Dana!” I scowled. “The insurance investigator! You know, the one Unity Financial sent out to re-investigate the fire at Hoff’s?” I waved a hand toward the window and the ashes of my bar across the street. “The guy you’re providing room and board toright this very minute?” The betrayal cut deep.
“Oh, right.” Dana grinned sheepishly. “Him.”
“Yeah, well. The dude haszerohumor about his name. Ask me how I know.” I rolled my eyes. “I had no idea I was so fascinating, but the guy watches me when I eat breakfast, then he follows me to the library and the bakery, like maybe I’m googling ‘How to cover your arson-related crime’ or dropping confessions about fire-starting over coffee atFanaille. I suddenly know how Chris Hemsworth must feel.”
Dana nodded. “Sure, honey. You’re just like Thor.” Then she paused and added, “But if Mr. Rodman can figure out who set fire to the place, wouldn’t that be worth it?”
“Maybe? Assuming someonewasresponsible. People were tossing around theories the night of the fire and… I mean, I think we all wanted someone to blame. But after reading the actual firefighters’ report, I don’t know that anyone did anything criminal. There were dozens of repair people working upstairs, leaving flammable shit all over the place and working on the electrical and the sprinklers.”
I spared a passing thought for the apartment I’d been having constructed in the loft area over the bar and felt my heart twist a tiny bit at the memory of the beautiful, wide pine floors that had just been installed the day before the fire, then I shrugged.
“The report says no cause could be determined, and I’m not interested in blaming anyone anymore. I just want to getpaidso I can figure out what comes next.” I crossed to the desk and retrieved a letter that I handed to Dana. “Looks like it’s gonna take a while, though.”
“What’s this?”
“Letter from Unity Financial. Read it.”
“I don’t have my readers on, but I’ll give it a go.” Dana frowned, then squinted down. “Dear Mr. Hoffstraeder. We have determined that the circumstances of the above-described event—” she looked up at me.
