“Fifth.”
“Do you know where he is?”
Just when I thought he was going to refer to his favorite amendment again, he simply said, “No.”
“But you’re one of the good guys?”
“I thought we were supposed to be naked for this interrogation.”
My stomach growled.
“Ah, I have to feed you first, I see.”
“That and I’d like a shower because I smell like a candy cane.”
“No problem. I love Christmas.”
“It’s June.”
“It’s always Christmas in my heart, Stark,” he said with a grin. “How about I order a pizza and meet you at your place in thirty?”
Chapter 21
Malone, whose wet hair indicated he’d also taken a shower, showed up in exactly thirty-one minutes with a bottle of wine and a box of fancy pizza from a place on the square. My subconscious had once again suggested matching underwear.
Not that Malone could see it just yet.
“You must’ve showered in two minutes flat to have accomplished all of this,” I said.
“Ah, but that’s the miracle of DoorDash—especially when you offer an excellent tip with the promise of even more upon a speedy delivery.”
Good tipper, too. Dammit. Why did he have to live in California, and why had I not met him at least ten years earlier?
“How’s your hand?” I asked as I opened the wine and poured a glass for each of us.
“Fine,” he said. “That thing with your dad really messed you up, huh?”
“You could’ve simplified that sentence to ‘your dad messed you up,’ and you would’ve been even more accurate.”
He angled his wineglass to study its contents, then turned his eyes on me. “You’re not messed up, Stark. Not any more than the rest of us.”
“But I don’t even get to punch your ex like you punched mine,” I said before sinking my teeth into the most delicious pizza ever. On focaccia bread, maybe? I was ruined for future delivery. “Not that I thought you actually would.”
“I do what I say I’ll do,” he said. “But funny you should mention my ex. I have a proposition for you.”
This had best not be a ménage à trois situation. I regretted ever putting that out in the universe.
“Another one?”
“Well, my grandfather has this gala event each summer and I have to go. My ex will probably be there.”
“Ah, so you’d like to make her jealous? I can do that.”
“The truth is I hate going by myself because it’s dreadfully dull and pretentious. Making her jealous would, however, be an excellent bonus. It’s such a production, and we all have to go and bend the knee to Grandpa or else he threatens to write us out of his will.”
I took the last bite of pizza and turned my attention back to the wine. “He’d do that?”
“In a heartbeat. Pettiest person I’ve ever met.”
