“I like being spoiled.”
“You could get a cheaper place in Brooklyn.”
“Yeah, maybe if I lived at Coney Island.”
“What about getting a place out here with Calvin?” Max tried.
I pushed my sunglasses up on my nose and looked at him briefly. “We aren’t moving in together.”
“No?”
“Way too soon for that.”
“I guess. Plan ahead, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t want to get a tiny place and six months later have to pack up and move again becausethenyou want to live together. Find a decent-sized place and be ready for the next step toward domestic bliss.”
“Thanks for that, Dr. Phil.”
Max scoffed and shoved me. “I’m trying to help you save money in the long run.”
“What stop are we?” I asked, ignoring Max’s somewhat valid point.
“Myrtle Avenue.”
The J train bumped along the overhead tracks and eventually rolled to a stop at our station. Max knew the neighborhood better than I did, so I followed as he led the way down from the platform. As we walked down the subway stairs, the train rattled overhead, momentarily drowning out the incessant honking of a car alarm, laughing kids on bikes, and two drunk guys arguing outside of a bodega that looked to be the sole shop in the neighborhood advertising both Mexican and Russian products.
“This way,” Max said, crossing the street in between oncoming cars.
“I think this address isn’t all that far from the one he lists under Richard.”
“At least he considered convenience for his multiple lives.”
I grumbled.
The sun had already begun setting for the evening as we rolled into Brooklyn, so by the time we reached the apartment about fifteen minutes away, it was nearly night. Max opened the gate to a relatively new building, strolled across the front walk, and hit the intercom.
“Yo,” a crackly voice said.
“Hey, man. It’s Max. Can you buzz me in?”
“Sure.”
The lock on the door was released, and Max tugged it open and held it for me to follow.
The first door past the mailboxes opened and a guy about Max’s age poked his head out. “What’s up?”
“Long story. This is my boss, Sebastian Snow,” he said, pointing at me. “Seb, my buddy Jeff from college.”
“Pleasure,” I answered briskly.
“I like your shades,” Jeff said, nodding at me. “You look like a secret agent.”
I sighed. I needed to get new sunglasses.
Max nudged Jeff’s shoulder lightly. “You said your neighbor Todd lived on the second floor, right?”
