“Jeezus, you must be desperate to use me as your priest.”
“I am. I love her. I can’t think of anything but her.”
I’d listen to enough of Kane’s on-the-road confessions of how he loved this one or that, but he’d never fixated on a single woman this long.
This was serious shit.
My phone rang again, and it was Holmes.
“Hang on, it’s Holmes.”
I put Kane on hold, and let him cool his jets while I talked to Rory. At least he wasn’t going to do the pining away nonsense.
“My chi is in serious trouble.”
I groaned.
“Not you, too.”
“What?”
“I got Kane on hold whining about how he misses Jacine. Marshall is here drinking my whiskey singing the same song.”
“Am not.”
“Dude, I can hear your thoughts.”
Marshall scoffed and tossed down the whiskey from his glass in one shot. He reached for the bottle of Jack, and I passed it to him.
“Misery likes company,” said Rory.
“That’s rather unoriginal for a man who writes lyrics that makes women’s panties melt.”
“Merge the calls. I want to talk to all of you anyway.”
I do and put the call on speaker. I set the phone in the fancy docking port that doubles as a speaker unit.
“So talk,” I said.
“Kane, you there?”
“Yeah.”
“So I’ve been thinking.”
“That’s a danger sign,” quipped Kane. It was a good thing his house was a good three miles from mine because I could do something against the contract if I spied his wisecracking grin.
“Shut up, Kane,” said Holmes. “Look, the one thing we can all agree on is that we want the same woman.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Sucks for us.”
“I’ve been reading that in Tibet there is like this shortage of women—”
“So, sucks for them.”
“Shut up and listen, because I don’t like this any better than you do, but it might be the only solution to our problem.”
“Okay, I'mlistening. Are you listening Kane, Marshall?”
