“Excellent grub at an excellent price. I can’t wait to try the nachos.” Ulysses gestured toward the heavenly smelling platter of food.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Just flag me if you need something.” With that, Debra was off again.
“I have to go to the washroom. Don’t wait for me.” Then he was up and gone again.
Well, hell fucking no, I’m not waiting. I’m starving.Heedless of the temperature of the nachos, I dug in.
And wound up gulping a lot of root beer.
Still, I’d finished my half of the wings and made a dent in the nachos by the time mydatereturned. I arched an eyebrow.
He started texting.
“Swear to God—”
“Texting myself.” He shrugged.
“Oh.” Which had me even more confused. What was so important that he had to make note of it?
He put his phone on the table—screen down. “Look, I’m a terrible date. Can you make your way home? I need to do a stakeout here.”
I blinked. “So much to unpack in what, three sentences? Sure, I can make my own way home.”
“Great.” He yanked out his wallet and handed me a hundred-dollar bill.
I was too tired to argue. I wouldn’t need that much, but I could give him the change the next time I saw him.”
He nodded as I put the money in my wallet. “Call me tomorrow?”
For what? I still don’t know why we got together today…“Uh, sure. I’ll take the rest of my nachos to go—”
“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to leave this instant—”
I flagged Debra and indicated a takeaway box. “I’ll fall asleep in the cab if I don’t go now.” I pulled up the app for the local cab company and ordered a car. “All good.”
Debra arrived with the box. “Everything okay?”
“I’m just super tired. My friend here’s picking up the tab.”
“No dessert to go? I’ve got a fresh lemon meringue pie.”
“Well, I won’t turn that down.” I glanced at mydate.
He gestured for me to go ahead.
Fifteen minutes later, I was in a cab and on my way home.
Artie chatted the entire way.
I gave the cabbie an extra big tip and was in bed seven minutes after hitting the door. Even the puzzle of what the hell Ulysses was up to couldn’t keep me from sleeping straight through until the next afternoon.
Chapter Seventeen
Ulysses
—I didn’t see you at the fire today. Are you okay? —
Finn’s reply pinged back immediately.—Sick. —
