Page 138 of Spiced!

“No you don’t,” Tyler said with a wink. “You want all my goals, Cap. You know you do.”

Jacks put his head on Skyler’s shoulder, shaking with laughter. Skyler put his arm around Jacks, and they sat there together, two men who had found the most ridiculous possible family and had decided to keep it.

As the music finally wound down, Tyler bowed.

The crowd roared and applauded.

Even Rod stepped out of the kitchen again, clapping and grinning.

Tyler bowed again, then turned around for a final bow.

The room saw FIVE HOLE one last time.

And the room reacted one last time.

“I need a moment,” Finn said.

“Take your time,” Chase said, patting his hand.

Tyler struck his final pose, his arms wide and chin aloft.

The room erupted.

Not politely.

But genuinely.

Tyler put the trench coat back on with enormous dignity, tied the belt, smoothed the lapels, then faced us.

“Thank you,” he said to the room. “I’m available for private events.”

“You are available for this family’s private events only,” Skyler said. “Nowhere else. Under no circumstances will you do . . . whatever that was . . . anywhere else in the world.”

“Those terms are acceptable,” Tyler said.

Erik raised his glass.

“The cattle,” he said, “are honored.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Tyler performed with whole self,” Erik said. “In tradition of great Norse warriors, who also—”

“ERIK.”

“—made questionable choices in service of—”

“ERIK.”

“—total commitment,” Erik finished, and drank.

Tyler pointed at him. “I’m getting that tattooed.”

“Whole sentence?” Erik said.

“Maybe not the cattle part,” Tyler said.

“The cattle part,” Erik said, “is most important part.”