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Good. At least he's not stupid.

Smoke shuts the office door behind us.

Callie takes one of the chairs. “Roman, this is Smoke.”

I don’t say anything.

I remain standing. So does Smoke.

He crosses his arms. I do the same.

Callie looks between us. “Oh my God.”

“What?” Smoke asks.

“You're doing the same thing.”

“We're not doing anything,” I say.

“You're both standing there with your arms crossed, trying to determine whose dick is bigger.”

Smoke and I look at each other.

Callie sighs. “Men.”

Smoke finally drops into the chair behind his desk.

I sit beside Callie.

“What's going on?” he asks.

I don't waste time. “Evan Calder.”

Smoke goes still.

“You know him.”

“He was a customer.”

“Three months ago, right?”

His eyes narrow. “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Answer the question.”

Smoke leans back. “No.”

Callie touches my arm. I look at her. She gives me a look that says Let me.

I don't like it, but I sit back and let her take the lead.

“Smoke,” she says quietly. “The guy who owned that red Mustang.”

His gaze shifts to her.

“You sent me a picture of it, remember? The convertible?”

“Yeah.”