Roland has Naked Tuesdays with Deedee.
Think about potatoes.
Shit.
Potatoes.
Ziggy.
Roland’s daughter. Naked Tuesdays.
I pull up my phone and switch to pictures of Fletcher in his budgie smugglers.
Better.
That’s better.
“What are you doing?” Goldie asks me.
“I know things and I don’t want to know things now that I know I know things.”
My phone buzzes in my hand, and a message pops up from Ziggy.
Ziggy:Can’t talk now, but we need to talk when I get off work. OMG. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?
Yep.
I’m in trouble.
“So your dog’s name is Jessica,” Goldie says. “That’s an interesting choice.”
“I didn’t name her.”
“I didn’t even know you had a dog,” Fletcher says. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a dog?”
“It was a pity adoption when someone in my neighborhood died. Also, thedog hates me.”
“Does she fart in your general direction often?” Goldie asks.
“Every fucking day.”
“I like her. I think she’s living up to everything a Jessica should be.”
Fletcher slides her a scowl in the rearview mirror.
She grins.
Every time I wonder why someone as awesome as Goldie would hook up with someone as annoying and obnoxious as Fletcher, she shows a new side of herself that makes me think he’s getting some of what he deserves.
“Tell the inside joke or quit making it,” I say.
“I’ll stop.” Goldie’s grin says she’s still making it in her head.
Fletcher’s grunt says he can hear it.
Sort of like I could hear Ziggy sayingdo not recognize me, you don’t know me, fuck, this is badwhen we locked eyes in the reception area.
“So the movie’s off tomorrow,” Fletcher says.
