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“Cole?”
“Yes?”
“What’s Mira’s love language?”
“Come on, Mad,” Cole groaned. “That’s a low blow.”
“Tell me.”
Sitting back on his stool, staring up at the ceiling, he surrendered. “It’s Physical Touch.”
“That’s what I thought. Call her.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. He did, more than anything. But it wasn’t that easy. “I gotta run. Love you, man.”
“Love you, too, brother.”
* * *
Steppingout of his booth an hour later, Cole glanced around the silent, empty studio, fighting off the eerie sensation that while he’d been recording backing tracks forCSI: Something or Other, everyone else in the world had disappeared, leaving him alone forever. “Hey?” he called out. “Anyone here?”
“Just me,” Benji grumbled, popping his head out from behind his computer at the front desk, rubbing his eyes.
“Late night?”
“Out with the SyGs again. I’m getting too old for this shit.”
Cole almost laughed at the forty-year-old, and he would have, if laughs weren’t so hard to come by these days. “Talk to me in fourteen years. Have you seen Nancy?”
“Yeah, she was here. She walked in, took one look at you in the booth, shook her head, and walked back out.”
“Huh.” Cole had no idea what that meant but figured it probably wasn’t good.
“It was weird, not gonna lie. Any chance you want to take a shift tonight? The SyGs want to go to this experimental witch house show that doesn’t even start until two in the morning.” Benji’s groan was pained. “I think they might, just, live like this. Like, every day.”
“We certainly did.”
“How? How the fuck did we do that? I feel like I’ve been punched in the throat.”
“I honestly have no idea,” Cole said. “But I don’t think you want this”—he ran a hand over his face, down his drab clothes, pointing out his sad, miserable…everything—“as Trax’s PR guy right now.”
“Maybe we should actually hire a PR guy. Someone young.”
Cole nodded. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“I’ve got a lot of good ideas,” Benji said, tugging on his goatee braid. “I think we should have a meeting about them sometime. Officially.”
“Officially?” Cole asked.
“Well, over a beer.”
“Ah, an official beer meeting. I was gonna ask if I needed to reserve the con room, maybe bring my lawyer.”
“You’re an ass.”
He wasn’t wrong there. “Let’s do it. Tomorrow night? Tell the young punks you’ll be busy?”
After a few clacks on his keyboard, Benji looked up and said, “It’s on my calendar. And Cole, I’m, uh, I’m sorry, man. She seemed like a good one.”
