“Oh my God, that sounds amazing,” I cut in. “Send it to me?”
“Yeah—yeah, I can?—”
“Alex.”
Benji’s voice cuts through the moment like a knife.
Not loud.
Not aggressive.
Just sharp.
Alex freezes.
“Yes, sir?”
“Pump the gas.”
“Uh, yep. I’m on it.”
He practically scrambles away.
I stare after him.
Then slowly turn back to Benji.
“Seriously?” I ask.
He doesn’t look at me.
“Kid needs to focus.”
“Kid?” I repeat. “He’s, what, twenty-five?”
“He’s green as grass, Ezzy. But old enough to do his job.”
I cross my arms.
“He was being nice.”
“He was staring.”
I blink.
Then laugh.
“Benji,” I say, incredulous. “That’s ridiculous. And you just said he’s a kid.”
His jaw tightens.
“Doesn’t matter.”
I stare at him for a second longer.
And then—something clicks.
Oh.
