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“As a skin rash.”
Laughing, Parker balled up his napkin and tossed it onto the cart as though shooting a free throw. “Hurry up with those dishes and get back in here. You’ve been a good and gracious host, but I know you’re itching to hear what Maris has to say about Envy.”
Mike went out, muttering under his breath.
“Bet I came out none too well in that monologue,” Parker said when Mike was out of earshot.
“Are you two related?”
“Not by blood.”
“He loves you.”
Parker looked at her sharply. When he saw that she wasn’t being caustic, he bit back a snide retort. He pondered her simple statement, then said slowly, “Yes, I suppose he does.”
“You never considered it?”
“Not in words.”
“Has he always taken care of you?”
“Not always.”
“I meant since your accident.”
“Accident?”
She gestured toward his wheelchair. “I assumed…”
“What made you assume it was an accident?”
“Wasn’t it?”
Mike reappeared but, sensing that he’d walked in on a serious conversation, hesitated on the threshold. Parker waved him forward, this time grateful for the man’s timing. Again, he figured it was intentional. Not much escaped Mike Strother.
Parker took a deep breath, blew it out, and, turning to Maris where she had sat down on the rattan sofa, said, “Okay, let’s get this over with.”
She laughed lightly. “It’s not an execution, Parker.”
“It’s not?”
“Not at all. What you’ve written is good. Very good.” She paused, glancing from him to Mike and back to him.
“Why do I feel that there’s a ‘however’ in my near future?”
She smiled, then said quietly, “You’ve written a terrific outline.”
Mike coughed softly and stared down at his shoes.
“Outline?”
“What you have is excellent.” She wet her lips. “But it’s… It skims the surface. You haven’t delved deeply enough.”
“
I see.”
“This isn’t bad news, Parker.”
