Page 49 of Something Like Forever
“Don’t say I’m lucky untilyou see our couch.” Nathaniel noticed the photo he was holding up.“That bow is adorable! Zero would never wear anything like that.The groomer tried once and he rolled in the dirt just to get itoff. He’s hopeless.”
“No Halloween costumesthen?” Tim swiped his phone and held it up again.
“Huh-uh. No! You dressedher up like a princess? I’m dying!”
This went on for longerthan it probably should have. Only when they finished fawning overeach other’s pets did they think to share photos of the men theywere married to.
“He doesn’t age,”Nathaniel said, scrutinizing a photo of Ben. “I was organizingfundraiser photos recently and saw an old one of him. Looks exactlythe same, even though this must have been ten yearsago.”
“I don’t know how he doesit,” Tim said wistfully. Then he looked at the photo Nathaniel waspresenting of a guy sitting up shirtless in bed, the sheetsgathered around his waist. “Jesus! Kelly is modellingagain?”
Nathaniel shook his head. “Took that onejust a few minutes after he woke up.”
“Don’t let him out of thehouse,” Tim advised.
“Nah,” Nathaniel said witha dopey grin. “You’ve got to trust them. Otherwise, what’s thepoint? Keep that in mind during your meeting.”
“I don’t have any trustissues with Ben,” Tim said, not understanding.
“That’s good. What aboutMarcello? Do you trust him?”
“Absolutely not,” Timsaid, but he winked to show he was kidding. He loved Marcello, andeven though he could be slippery, Tim did trust him.Completely.
“Better not keep himwaiting,” Nathaniel said, jabbing the button to call the elevator.“I meant what I said about dinner. Anytime.”
“I’ll let Ben know. He’lllove the idea.” Tim stepped into the elevator and turned around.“You’re not riding along?”
Nathaniel shook his head. “I’ll take thestairs. Best of luck.”
Nice guy, although not thebest at providing reassurance. As the elevator doors shut, Tim feltnervous. What did he need luck for? The little box rose and thedoors opened again. Marcello was halfway across the office andmoving toward him, a finger waving in the air.
“Lies!” he declared. “Alllies! Don’t believe a word of what that man told you.”
“So hisdogisn’tthe handsomest in the world?” Tim teased.
“The most ill-behavedperhaps,” Marcello said, peering suspiciously. “He didn’t spoilanything?”
“Nada,” Tim said. “I’m thepicture of innocence.”
“They always start thatway, but it never seems to last.” Marcello gestured to the couches.“Please. Make yourself comfortable.”
Now he knew he was introuble. The couches were where Marcello did his bestconvincing.
“I have beer,” Marcellooffered, moving toward the wet bar. “A selection from Germany,although if you’re feeling patriotic, I have American brandstoo.”
Beer? Instead ofchampagne. Yup. He was definitely in trouble. “You killed someone,”Tim said. “You killed someone and want help disposing of thebody.”
“I have people who handlesuch things,” Marcello said dismissively. “Now then, what shall itbe? A refreshing Kristallweizen? A fruity Radler? Or how about arobust Kellerbier?”
“Refreshing sounds good,”Tim said, taking a seat.
Marcello uncapped twobottles and joined him. “How are things at home?”
“Better than ever,” Timsaid, putting on a smug expression. “I’ve been sleeping with thishot college guy.”
“Oh really?” Marcellosaid, attention instantly piqued. “That sounds positivelyscandalous! While normally my cup of tea, I’m inordinately fond ofyour husband. What does he think of all this?”
“Ben? He’s in the sameroom while we’re getting it on.”
