“Mm-hmm.”
“The one with the…?” He stops and regroups. “I can do that. Tomorrow.”
But I’m not going to let him off that easily.
“Actually, I need them tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“They’re personal items. Essential to my evening routine.”
The flush starts at his neck. “Your evening routine.”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “Right.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“You’ve gone a bit pink.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have. It’s quite charming, actually.” I let the pause stretch. “Leo, have you already opened that drawer?”
The pink deepens to crimson. “I may have opened it briefly when I was packing your bag that first night. I closed it immediately.”
“Immediately? So you didn’t take a proper inventory?”
He looks pained. “I’m not having this conversation.”
“Because if you had, I could just tell you specifically which items I need, and you won’t have to rummage.”
“I said I closed it immediately.”
“The purple one, for instance. Battery-operated. Very important for my recovery. And there’s a bottle of something in the back corner that really helps the whole experience. Very nice.”
“Can’t this wait until…”
I give him an imploring look. “It really can’t. I have needs, Leo. And having a broken ankle is going to stop me from satisfying those needs in other ways, so I need the right equipment.”
He looks like a man who’s just stepped on a landmine and is trying to figure out how to lift his foot without triggering the explosion.
“Fine,” he says tightly. “I’ll go now.”
“Wonderful. Make sure you grab the purple one. That’s nonnegotiable.”
“The purple one.”
“You’ll know it when you see it. It’s quite substantial. It’s called the Destroyer. Just so you know what you’re looking for.”
Leo’s jaw works. “Anything else?”
“The silver one as well. Actually, just bring the whole drawer’s contents. I like to have options.”
“Options,” he repeats faintly.
