Page 113 of Inbetweeners
Phoenix chuckled. “You’re one of a kind. How’s the book?”
“The one I’m writing in my head or the one about Moscow?”
“Either.”
“A Gentleman in Moscowis lovely. It’s about a guy who has to stay inside a hotel or he’ll get shot.”
“That doesn’t sound lovely.”
“But it is. Over decades, he does more than endure. He makes the most of everything in such a charming, life-affirming way. I hope it has a happy ending. I hope I get to read the ending before… The other story, demon meets angel… I think that might just be getting to the exciting part. I hope that has a happy ending too.”
“Not everything does.”
“Unless you’re in one of those shady massage parlours.”
Emmett was surprised not to raise a reaction with that.
“Italian okay?” Phoenix asked.
“Yes.”
Emmett was convinced there was something wrong. Was he going to find out what?
A short time later, they were sitting at a table, food ordered, with a bottle of red wine open. Phoenix had already drunk half his glass.
Emmett scooted his chair closer to him. “Googlewitch.”
“Seven billion results.”
“Well, hone it down.”
“There’s not much chance of finding a phone number for a witch. Think of the crank calls they’d get.”
“I’ve kissed my frog ten times but there’s no sign of a prince, only a nasty fungal infection. What do I do?”
Phoenix smiled.
“Trywitch services near me,” Emmett told him.
“That brought up plenty of ads.”
“We can email. What was Sophie’s sister called?”
“Alice.”
“Maybe you should put something like—we just heard about Alice’s death. We desperately want to send Sophie some flowers. Do you have her address?”
“Would you send someone an address if you didn’t know them?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean one of the people we ask won’t. We only need one person.”
“True.”
“Addto the shopaftersome flowerson a few to see if that helps.”
By the time the large sharing pizza arrived, Phoenix had sent ten emails.
“We ought to contact more, but let’s have dinner first.” Emmett topped up Phoenix’s glass.
