At the sound of his voice, my pulse was off to the races. “Bad news first.”
“I’m not going to be back until the gala.”
“Booooo. What’s the good news?”
“Work seems to be under control. Finally.”
“Excellent. Do that forensic accounting voodoo that you do so well.”
“You really have no idea what I do, do you?”
“Only the vaguest of notions. I mean, I know about accounting, but I keep thinking you’re some kind of number medical examiner performing nerd autopsies.”
He laughed. “I miss you.”
“You miss my purple bra.”
“Well, yes, but I miss you. I miss whatever perfume it is you wear—”
“J’adore.”
“I miss your smile, your sense of humor, and the fact you know how to do terrifying things like break into my apartment.”
“That’s the tip of the iceberg, Malone. I have all sorts of talents you haven’t even discovered yet.”
He took in a ragged breath. “Can you show me sometime?”
“Sure. If you’re a very good boy.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.” I smiled in a way I hadn’t since my teen years.
“And we can have a Finnegan, when I get back?”
His response startled me. How did he know about Havisham’s bar? “What?”
“A Finnegan, a mulligan for a mulligan.”
“I’m sure you’re speaking English, but once again your words don’t make sense to me.”
He chuckled. “It’s a golf term.”
“Oh, I don’t play that game.”
“If you were Lucius Malone’s grandchild, you would, but basically it’s a do-over for a do-over.”
“Third time’s a charm?”
“One can hope. Bottom line: I don’t care if the apartment building is collapsing around us, the next time I kiss you, I fully intend to make love to you. Thoroughly.”
I shivered. “How thoroughly is ‘thoroughly’?”
“I’m going to ruin you for other men.”
And then you’re going to leave me.
I shook that thought away. No, he and I were going to enter a short-term, mutually beneficial relationship. “And how do you know I’m not going to ruinyou?”
