Scarlet took it without skipping a beat and gave him a firm shake. “Pleasure. Bowen won’t shut up about you. I mean that in a good way, of course.”
Felix glanced at me and awkwardly smiled. “Good.” He put his hand in his pocket. “Did you… drive up from New York?”
“Sure did,” Scarlet answered.
He looked surprised.
I patted Scarlet’s shoulder and said, “I told her about everything that’s happened.”
“Ah. Moral support?” Felix guessed.
“More like ass-kicking and name-taking,” she corrected.
Felix looked at me again.
“Maybe we should sit down,” I suggested.
“Sure,” he said quietly, motioning us to follow him to the kitchen.
“Fuck, this house isnice,” Scarlet murmured to me. “If he can cook too, you’re dating goddamn Martha Stewart.”
“He cooks,” I confirmed.
Scarlet stopped. “Looks, skills, success…. I hate to say it…,” she started.
“You approve?”
“Hell no. He deserves someone better than your skinny can’t-make-ramen-noodles-without-burning-water ass.”
I shoved her. “I hate you sometimes.”
Felix had apparently been busy in the kitchen before we even showed up. There were pots and pans sitting out, cooking utensils scattered across the countertop, and a bag of apples sitting on the island.
“I’m sorry about the mess,” he said. “I’ve just—” He looked at me. “What’s that saying… busy hands are happy hands?”
“Trouble with the insurance company?” I asked, taking a seat at the island in order to let Felix continue puttering about the room.
“Not trouble, just… no headway being made. It’s a waiting game of fire reports, police reports, he said, she said…. It goes on forever.” Felix looked over his shoulder. “What’s the name and ass thing about?”
Scarlet pulled a stool out from the island and sat with her back to the doorway. She started going into detail, telling Felix what she’d planned earlier that day. He continued cooking, listening politely, before finally uttering his two cents.
“I’m not so sure about this.”
“I told you he wouldn’t like it,” I said to Scarlet.
“It sounds very… Hollywood spy movie, that’s all.” Felix set mugs of cider in front of me and Scarlet. “Bo, I don’t want you going to that bar. I really don’t. This is a nice town, but—”
“I admit, the plan isn’t surefire,” Scarlet stated. “But what’ve we got to lose?”
“My front teeth,” I suggested.
It was supposed to be a joke, but Felix visibly cringed.
I reached out and patted his hand. “That won’t happen, darling, I promise.”
“Wow, this cider is killer!” Scarlet stated. She held her mug in both hands and took another sip. “Oh my God. It’s got that perfect sweet and tart bite, with cinnamon and… what’s that other thing I’m tasting?”
“Star anise,” Felix answered.
