“It would be fine if I’d ever heard of it, but I’ll take your word it’s an actual place.”
“God, you’re an idiot,” Elliot chided Spencer. “It’s near the water, obviously, close to Manhattan Beach.” He poured himself a margarita from the pitcher, then refilled Spencer’s glass.
“There’s a place in Brooklyn called Manhattan Beach?” Golden brows drawn together, Spencer stared at them, and both Elliot and Winston simultaneously broke out in laughter.
“Yes, there is. Coney Island leads to Brighton Beach. After a few blocks, there’s Manhattan Beach. I know you never leave the island of Manhattan, but at leasttryto know a little something about the city outside your comfort zone.”
“Well, why should I? I don’t go to the city beaches. They’re filthy and full of sand and people.” He wrinkled his elegant nose. “Especially annoying little children.”
“Oh brother, you really are a head case.”
“Why? Because I have standards?” He sniffed and pulled down the sleeves of a denim jacket that attempted to look casual but Elliot would bet cost almost as much as an average person’s food bill for a month.
“No, because you’re a snob.” Elliot hoped Winston wouldn’t judge him based on Spencer’s behavior.
Outrage sparked in Spencer’s blue eyes. “I am not. Take that back. I respect everyone. That doesn’t mean I want to live with them.”
“Okay, kids. I didn’t realize my place of birth would cause such controversy.”
“It’s nothing. We’re always like this.” Spencer chuckled, his ruffled feathers settling.
Winston took a swallow of his beer. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad.”
“It’s fifteen years of togetherness—first college and then all the years after. We know each other too well.”
“You could say that again.” Elliot spoke into his margarita glass, and Winston shot him a look filled with speculation.
Spencer continued his questioning. “And you always wanted to be a policeman, since you were a little boy? Did you dress up like one for Halloween?” The waitress came by with a refill of guac and chips.
“You’d be great in the interrogation room.” Winston dipped his chip in the guacamole, took a bite, and chewed.
“That’s Wolfie’s purview. He’s the lawyer. I’m the fashion consultant, although Elliot never listens to me. All he wears are T-shirts and jeans.”
“What? Am I supposed to wear Burberry to sit in front of my computer and type? I’m lucky I can wear my pajamas to work if I choose.” Irritated, he drank down the rest of his margarita and blew out a breath.
“Who’s Wolfie?”
“Another friend.” Elliot finished up his meal. His head spun slightly, so he decided that last margarita had been his limit. He helped himself to the carafe of ice water on the table.
“How many of you are there?” Winston laughed.
“Too many, I’m thinking now,” Elliot shot back darkly.
“Oh, you love us.” Spencer nudged his shoulder. “The four of us have been together since college. Elliot, myself, Wolf, and Chess.”
Winston’s brows arched high. “That’s nice, to have a tight circle of friends.”
Elliot said, “Sometimes, yes. Other times we have to keep from killing each other.” He pointed at Spencer. “Mostly Spencer and Wolf. I think the last time they agreed on something was…hmm…” He pretended to think, tapping his finger on his chin. “Never.”
The smirk died on his face when Spencer hitched his chair away from his side to face him full on. “Not true. We all agreed that Dakota the Candle Man was using you, like all the other jerks you’ve dated. But nothing we said would convince you we were telling the truth.”
“Yeah, well, whatever.” He gulped from his glass of water. “Can we get the check?”
Bad enough Winston already knew he’d been scammed by Dakota, and now his stupidity and the dirty laundry of his other past relationships were laid out in the open. But from across the table Winston smiled, and it felt like it was meant for him and no one else, and nothing else mattered—not Spencer and his annoying chatter, not any past relationship. Elliot’s embarrassment cooled.
Winston said, “It’s not always easy to hear what we know we won’t like. Or maybe deep down we know it’s the truth, but we’re not ready to face that much honesty. It’s okay. Take it easy on yourself. I think you’ve learned.”
“I hope so.” The kiss they’d shared that morning remained a bright star burning in his mind.
