“Don’t be absurd. You know that’s not possible. I can’t. I don’t even know how. At least not in the normal way—the way normal people do … normally. I haven’t been with anyone other than …”
“Him.” Charles sighed. “Mickey.”
“Yes,him. And that was nowhere near normal.”
Shaking his head, Charles crossed his arms. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. Neither one of you would ever know. You’re a steel vault. You can’t even break the code. He wouldn’t know. You wouldn’t know. I might not even know. Not if you did. Not if he did. He wouldn’t know if you were interested because you wouldn’t know if you were. Because of that, you wouldn’t, couldn’t make it known, making it impossible for him to know. You wouldn’t know if he was because you wouldn’t know if you were, and because you wouldn’t know if you were and wouldn’t make it known that you were, he couldn’t know if you were, so he wouldn’t, couldn’t make it known if he were and thus, wouldn’t know if he were. And I wouldn’t know—”
Exasperated, Nico threw her hands in the air. “What are you saying?”
“I’m not sure.” Charles paused. “But whatever it is, I think I have to stop. I’m getting dizzy.”
Even Templeton seemed disturbed. He ducked his head back down and burrowed himself deep into Charles’s pocket.
Nico stood up. Unfortunately, so did Charles.
“I think I feel better now. I’m going to jump in the shower.”
She tried to get past him, but he blocked her.
“Hold on, we’re not done here,” he said, opening the wad and tossing some bills on the bed. “Nico, there are hundred-dollar bills here! In fact, all I see are hundred-dollar bills!” Charles clutched his chest, his eyes wide in a look of horror. “You don’t suppose he’s a drug dealer or connected?”
“I thought all drug dealers were connected.”
Charles grabbed a pillow and threw it at her. “Stop making light of this. I’m serious.”
Nico picked up the pillow and threw it back. “You’re also a drama queen. Trust me, he was no drug dealer, and he was no mafioso.”
“He was Italian?”
“Did I say that?”
“Didn’t you?”
“I don’t think so. But okay, yes, he happens to be Italian. But not all Italians belong to the mob. And we’re not talking about hundreds of thousands of dollars. If I found a sack with that much money in it and kept it, then you could be concerned. He was just a rich, annoying, arrogant asshole who decided to go slumming.”
“Prick.”
“What?”
“You forgot prick. A rich, annoying, arrogant, asshole, prick who decided to go slumming.”
“Right.”
Charles narrowed his eyes, a look of suspicion on his face. “What makes you so certain? You sound certain.”
Nico made a second move to get past him. “I just am. That’s all. Now let me go. I’ve got to get ready.”
Charles held out his hand like a traffic cop. “Stop right there.”
Nico saw the wheels turning in Charles’s brain.
Damn it.
It was only a matter of time.
He narrowed his eyes. “When you saidit was him, you made it sound as though you know him—as though I know him. Do you? Do I?”
Just get it over with already.
