Page 124 of Moonlighter
“Look, I gotta bounce,” Anton says. “Want to go out again tonight?”
“No!”Jesus.
“Even for dinner?” My young cousin looks insulted. “Drake said I gotta try Brooklyn pizza.”
“Sure, maybe. After I spend the day trying to figure out how to apologize to Alex.” No woman deserves a slurred marriage proposal from a drunken buffoon.
I really do love Alex. I want to be with her. And I think I just fucked that up. I pick my phone up off the floor to find that it has a cracked screen. There’s no telling when that happened.
It does not, however, have any texts from Alex. I was hoping for something along the lines of:Morning sunshine. You sure were funny last night! Talk later?
But no.
There are several texts from my brother, though. And every one of them makes me grumpy.Answer your phone. Eric. Come on, it’s almost ten. I need to talk to you.
And, finally:Don’t text Alex. I doubt she wants to hear from you. Just call me back instead.
“No fucking way!” I yell, as if he could hear me.
Anton gives me a wary look, waves, and then runs out my apartment door.
I’m just pouring myself a glass of orange juice when my phone rings again. But it’s not Max, so I have to peer at the cracked screen to identify the caller.
DUFF it says.
“Hi,” I say into the phone. “Whatever you were going to say, can it wait until after I’ve metabolized some painkillers?”
“No man,” he says, chuckling. “I’m downstairs in the car. Get down here.”
“Why? Did I agree to go somewhere?”
“Nope. But I brought you two egg sandwiches from Lenwich, and a cup of coffee.”
Ooh, Lenwich. My mouth waters. “With bacon?”
“And double cheese.”
I frown. “Fuck, only Max knows I like double cheese. He sent you?”
“Yeah. He needs to show you something. Down at his office.”
“Don’t you ever sleep?” I grumble.
“Not for long. I was off from two until eight.”
“That is probably against the law,” I point out.
“I’m aware. But we are really understaffed right now. Listen, man. These sandwiches smell really good. I’m going to eat one of them if you’re not down here in five minutes.”
“You are not the person I thought you were, Duff. That is just cruel.”
“Four minutes ten seconds…”
“I need ten,” I bark. “You do not want me there until I’ve showered.”
That offer of sandwiches better not be a ruse.
It wasn’t.
