Page 31 of A Wolf After My Own Heart
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry. We can talk about something else.”
“Okay.”
“I’mnot seeing anyone.”
“You can’t know what a relief that is.” The hell of it was, she was only being a little sarcastic.
He leaned in and suddenly her world was a pair of green eyes. “Lila. I didn’t ask you that just to fish for info. Something is—I can’t even figure out how to explain—okay, ever since we—”
“Ow!” Bart Simpson said, because he was a rude cartoon child.“Quit it. Ow! Quit it.”
Ox almost dropped his fork. “The hell is that?”
“Sorry,” Lila said, fishing her phone out of her purse. She’d never hear whatever Ox had been working up to, but now she had something new to fret about. “That’s me.” She was 95 percent sure what she was going to see, but it was nice to know her paranoia was once again justified. How’d it go again? Is it paranoia when people really are plotting against you? “Oh, look at that.”
Oz had fallen to systematically demolishing his tartare, which had been shaped into a thick disc that resembled a raw hamburger sans bun. Which it was, come to think of it. “What? Some poor kiddo accidentally flush their teddy bear?”
“That’s only happened twice.” Gratifying as it was to be proved right, it pissed her off all the same. As they’d established, this wasn’t a date. But her phone had established it wasn’t a business lunch, either. “Your sister is breaking into my house.”
“Aw, man, you had to fix a toilet bear? That’s—what?”
“Garsea.” She flipped her phone around to show him. “Is in my house. Which is conveniently empty. Because someone has contrived to keep me fifteen miles away. While his sister breaks into my house. Because he is a sneaky son of a bitch.”
His mouth hung open. She took another bite, and she could actually see him working things out:oh shit she’s onto us she’ll call the cops why is she just sitting there she knows I can’t make a fuss in the restaurant should I talk her out of calling 911 or extract Garsea or go straight to begging forgiveness and offering her $$$$ not to sue my deceitful ass shit shit shit.
He was halfway to the door when he realized she wasn’t behind him. He stopped, turned, saw her calmly plowing through her fingerling potatoes, turned back to the door, stopped again, trotted back.
“Uh. Aren’t you going to—shouldn’t we be yelling at each other while you call the cops and then I beg you to hear me out and maybe try to bribe you?”
“Our foodjustgot here.”
“You’re worried about your lunch?”
“Typical suit,” she sniffed. “‘Hang the cost, I’ll expense it!’ Not okay, pal. Plus you’ve got somewhere to be.”
“I do?”
“The hospital, prob’ly.”
Oz frowned, but his phone buzzed before he could reply. He pulled it out, not unlike a man handling an incendiary device, and checked the screen. “Jesus.”
“Toldja.”
“What did you do?”
“I’ll have the waitress put yours in a doggie bag.”
“What did youdo?”
“Goodbye. Waitress?” Lila waved her over. “Could I get a refill on my rickey?”
Chapter 13
“This is fucking embarrassing,” Annette snarled, leaving a trail of blood like an angry snail, which was horrifying because the woman almost never dropped f-bombs. The blood was freaking him out a little, too. When Annette got bloody, corpses tended to pile up in the morgue.
“I’m glad you texted me, Annette, but…jeez, are you okay?”
