‘It’s fine,’ Taylor said. ‘I own an art gallery/studio back in New York. My paintings, while popular, do not solely pay the bills, no. So I also do tattooing. And that does.’
Hannah took a moment to process this. ‘Wait, you mean you tattoo people? Like, as an actual job?’
‘Yes.’
Hannah stared at her. ‘How extraordinary.’
She said it as if Taylor had just told her she trained leprechauns for a living. I opened my mouth to change the subject but she wasn’t finished with the interrogation yet.
‘What does your husband do?’
‘Myex-husband is a financial operations analyst.’
Hannah took a large mouthful of her drink and I felt myself stiffen. ‘I’m guessing he makes a pretty good living.’
‘He does. So do I.’
‘I think that’s enough of the questions,’ I interjected.
Hannah shrugged, took another drink. ‘I thought you said you and Taylor were getting to know each other. I’m just hastening it along.’
‘I wasn’t planning on asking Taylor about her finances,’ I pointed out. ‘That’s nobody’s business but hers.’
Hannah rolled her eyes. ‘Relax, Jack. Taylor doesn’t mind me asking questions, do you, Taylor?’
‘Not at all. I have nothing to hide.’
‘See?’ She drained the last of her drink. I couldn’t help but notice that Taylor’s glass was still almost full, as was mine. ‘It’s how people get to know each other, Jack. Which you’d know if you ever actually went anywhere.’ She rolled her eyes at Taylor as if they were co-conspirators. ‘The number of times we tried to get this man to come to events with us but he much preferred to stay at home.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with being a homebody,’ Taylor replied.
‘Well of course, wealllike curling up at home sometimes,’ Hannah said, ‘but there has to be a balance.’ She rested her head against my shoulder and I stiffened. ‘Remember how almost every Sunday you’d come over? You and Alex would watch a game, then fire up the grill and drink a few beers while you put the world to rights. And then after dinner the three of us would watch a movie, and most of the time you’d end up sleeping in our spare room instead of going home. Well, I say spare room. But really it was your room, Jack. It was only ever yours.’
‘I remember.’
‘I’m sorry about your husband,’ Taylor said, and her sympathy was genuine.
Hannah picked up my drink and took a sip. Taylor’s eyebrows arched.
‘Thanks,’ Hannah said. ‘How much has Jack told you about it, exactly?’
‘Nothing really. Just that he passed away.’
‘He didn’t tell you what happened?’
‘No.’
‘Good.’
‘Hannah,’ I admonished her gently.
‘I’m sorry if that sounded harsh,’ Hannah apologized, sounding unapologetic. ‘It’s just… it’s our business, Jack. No one else’s.’
‘It’s fine,’ Taylor assured her. ‘I completely understand.’
Hannah frowned at her. ‘No, you don’t. You haven’t got a clue.’
‘Hannah,’ I growled, louder this time. ‘That’s enough.’
