“What’s wrong with him?” Verna said, biting into what sounded like an apple.
“Are you watching me through that crystal ball of yours?” I grumbled because she guessed the gender of my problem.
“No, but you mentioned that there are no women detectives in your department, so… what’s wrong with him?”
I snorted. “His sex. Obviously.”
“I don’t think that’s what’s bothering you,” Verna countered.
“We’re also working together,” I added, trying to remember all the reasons that made this shitshow a shitshow.
“Close but no cigar, hun.”
“I can’t control it… him… or me… or it.”
“Do you like him?”
“No!” I scoffed. “I hated him until, like... yesterday.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you sure it was hatred?”
Of course, it was hatred. What else could it be?
“Stop drinking and go to bed, Adam,” Verna said with a sigh. “By the way, it’s October. What did I tell you when I read your cards?”
“That I need to let someone into my life by the end of the year, or great misfortune will befall me. You were also making it up.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m a detective.”
Verna giggled. “Time will tell. What’s his name, by the way?”
“Whose name?”
“The name of your guy.”
“He’s not my guy,” I growled.
“Name, please.”
I rubbed my forehead in frustration. “Jordan.”
“That’s a nice name. Do you know his zodiac sign?”
“Of course not.”
“This is what you will do. Tomorrow you will invite Jordan for a coffee and ask him what his zodiac sign is. Just talk to the guy, Adam. He is probably as confused as you are. Okay? Okay. Now, I really have to go, or my client will think I’m a fraud.”
“You are a fraud.”
“Why don’t you arrest me then?”
“I will.”
