Tito sat in the chair opposite. He was dressed to impress in figure-hugging jeans and a cashmere sweater. Why did Tito always look like he was about to pose for a magazine?
Noah always felt scruffy in his tracksuits.
“Who fancies a run?” Noah asked.
Jonas shook his head. “No can do, I’m afraid. I’ve got a photoshoot in town.”
Noah frowned. “What for?”
“A new hotel. They want some local celebrities to pose. There’s me, a soap star and a YouTuber.”
“I could have done that.”
Jonas chuckled. “You can’t have all the spoils, Noah. You’ve got the new gym in Brockton.”
It was a measly contract and so far the only one that Dean Jack, their agent, had come up with despite tons of offers.
“Dean needs to put more effort in,” Noah grumbled.
“He’s too loved up,” Tito replied.
Dean, their manager, had got together with Howard, the PR guru for Brockton at Christmastime. They were head over heels in love and didn’t care who knew about it.
“Gross.”
“I bet they’re at it morning, noon and night,” Tito said with a cackle. “Howard looks like a hungry man.”
Jonas and Noah groaned. The thought was too much to bear.
Thankfully the moment was broken by Marge letting herself in. She marched into the room and dumped a cool bag onto the kitchen counter.
Tito leapt up, clapping his hands.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Curried goat, rice and peas and a ton of bammy,” she announced.
Tito kissed her on the cheek. “Hey, guys, who wants a late lunch?”
“Not for me,” Jonas said. “I’ve got plans after the shoot.”
Noah frowned at the plastic containers Marge was unpacking. This would not be sanctioned by the nutritionist at Brockton.
“I’d better not.”
“Nonsense,” Marge said. “This stuff will make you play better.”
Noah smiled weakly. “Maybe a taste.”
Jonas got up. “I’d better be going.”
“I’ll come for a run with you,” Tito said. “Give me five minutes to change.”
He headed for his bedroom and was immediately stayed by Marge’s firm grip on his arm.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she said. “We agreed that you were going to tidy up that spare room of yours.”
Not one for visitors, Tito used his spare room as a closet. Noah had been in there and it wasn’t for the faint-hearted. Haphazard was an understatement. Even so, Tito never failed to come up with a decent outfit. There had to be some form of order.
