“Pizza. Chinese. The usual.”
“Pizza sounds good. A lot of pizza. The greasier, the better. And a Sicilian. And garlic knots.”
“I can do that,” he agreed, reaching for his new temporary phone to find the closest place that was still open and placing the order. “Twenty minutes.”
“We eat,” I said, leaning my head against him. “Then we sleep.”
“Because you’re gonna insist on being up early to go back to work.”
“Yes. You’re either with me or in my way. And I think we both know I can swing a mean liquor bottle now.”
“Nah. I’ll be there. Gotta give you the cash from Lorenzo.”
“Is that a bribe?”
“Can we call it a bribe if it’s going into the charity, not your bank account?”
“Fair,” I agreed.
Honestly, after everything, I genuinely didn’t give a damn about some merchandise making its way into the city via the toy trucks. So long as the kids got what they needed, who cared?
“Between what Lorenzo is pledging and the lawyers are sending over, I think we are just about making your goal.”
“Don’t get my hopes up. We were several hundred thousand away from it last I checked.”
“Because you weren’t good at keeping a mental tally with the lawyers. You were too busy being charming. Me, without a lick of fucking charm, was counting.”
“Who said you’re not charming?” I asked as Meatball let out a loud snore.
“Just about everyone I’ve ever met.”
“Well, they’re all wrong.”
“They’re not. You’re just fucked in the head.”
“Maybe,” I agreed. “But I like being the only one to know how sweet you can be.”
“Sweet? Babe, you sure you didn’t whack your head sometime tonight?”
I elbowed him in the side at that.
“You carried me.”
“I’m the reason your feet are fucked up.”
“You warmed me up.”
“Couldn’t let you die of hypothermia.”
“You escorted me to a stuffy holiday party.”
“Alright, that was kinda nice of me, huh? No,” he said, rolling his eyes at me.
“No, what?”
“No, you can’t be looking at me like that. You need food, meds, and sleep.”
“I mean… that might help me sleep.”
