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“You don’t talk much about him,” she said, handling him with obvious care. “So I can’t know. But I wonder if you want your legacy to be different, or if you work so hard so you can make his different.”
Christ.
Christ.
Hale threw back some of his drink.
“Do I hear ice clinking?” she inquired.
“Yes,” he grunted.
“Was that out of line? What I said.”
“No. Though, how sharp you are has always been a turn on. Now I’m seeing the pitfalls.”
“Honey,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, I threw a lot of heavy at you.”
“Sounds like you had a heavy night and needed to unload some of it. I don’t mind holding on to it.”
Test passed.
Flying colors.
“Let’s move out of the heavy anyway,” he suggested.
“If you like.”
“How was drinks with the girls?”
“A blast. You have a nickname. Thurston Remington the Fifth.”
A startled laugh came out of him. “What?”
“Carole made it up. It pertains to one of the photos of us sold to thePostor wherever. It seems very formal.”
“I haven’t seen that one.”
“Hang on.”
His phone dinged, and he looked at the photo on the text she sent.
Then he busted out laughing.
“Christ, I totally look like a Thurston.”
He heard her laughter too. “I know, right?”
“You look like the snow bunny I picked up in Geilo.”
She laughed harder then said, “I’m Sunny Sinclair.”
He chuckled. “Perfect. So you had a good time.”
“I haven’t been out with them for a while. I’ve been so focused on Elsa’s Exchange, I let some important relationships slide. I’ve decided to restructure some things so I’ll have more time for them, and Dad, and, well…you, if this works with us.”
If this works with us.
