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“Oh?” Mickey went over to the small bar area. “Have you seen him in court lately?”
“Well, no.”
“Have you read anything he’s written for a case?”
“No.”
“So, as far as you know, your handsome friend might have slept his way up to where he is today.”
Anthony’s face got warmer. He knew damn well how hard Chris had worked to reach where he was today. “I know that isn’t true.”
“Why, of course. Chris is a brilliant lawyer, but you shouldn’t let friendship cloud your judgment.” He put his hand underneath his chin while assessing Anthony. “You’re a bourbon man.”
“I’m okay with water.”
Mickey nodded and turned around. “Bourbon it is. With a bit of orange juice.”
Anthony sighed quietly and glanced at the view from the tall window. He could see so much of Central Park from up here; the Cherry Blossom looked magical.
“Were your parents born in this country?” Mickey casually asked.
“Yes. My grandparents were the ones who came here from Italy.”
“Do you speak any Italian?”
“I used to, but I lost it with time. I can understand pretty well if someone speaks slowly, but Italians rarely do.”
Mickey chuckled as he finished making the drinks. “At least you kept your exotic skin complexion.” He turned around with two identical drinks and walked toward the couch at the center of the office.
Anthony sat, and Mickey sat next to him, handing him the drink. “Cheers.” They clinked their glasses.
Anthony took a sip and immediately discovered that he was indeednota bourbon man, but the orange juice helped.
“So.” Mickey crossed his legs. Even sitting down, the height difference between them was noticeable, and it gave Anthony a slight boost of confidence.
“So,” Anthony echoed.
Mickey took another sip and put his drink on the table. Anthony decided to keep holding his own as a distraction for his hands.
“How long have you and Chris been friends?” Mickey asked.
“Going on for around ten years now. I used to do repairs at his college.”
“You didn’t study there?”
“I was never good with books.”
Mickey nodded. “To acknowledge one’s intellectual limitations is smart.”
“Hmm, thanks.”
“Are you still working as a handyman?”
“I have my own business.”
“A businessman!”
Anthony shrugged. “Not really. I’m fixing up old houses and doing some basic construction work, mostly in Brooklyn.”
