I shrug. How can you go from sullen to somewhat normal within seconds? He’s fucking with my—never mind.
“Nothing,” I reply. “A burger and fries sounds fuc—it’s sounds good.”
“Please don’t stop swearing on my account.” He peers down at me, and I swear he’s amused.
“I’m trying to do better.” I straighten my spine. “More professional.”
“Mhm.” He takes a step towards me, leaning in to whisper over the loud music. “Last time I checked, I didn’t hire you to be, as you put it, basic.”
My eyes snap close as his chest grazes mine for a brief second before pulling away, making them perk open.
“I’ll go grab you that burger and fries.”
Yeah, you do that.
I don’t realize I’m staring into space and time until my cell buzzes against my butt in my jeans. Mindlessly pulling it out, I see a text from Chase.
Chase: What did you do, kill a goldfish?
Chase: And yeah, you are, I haven’t been able to ask my twenty questions since I WON because you’ve been “tired.”
Me: I tricked my boss into coming to a charity event.
Me: And I HAVE been tired.
Chase: So…
Chase: And we’re going to start when I get off this damn case so I can focus.
Me: He's a straight-laced dude, and it's bowling.
Me: Yeah, whatever you say, Yank.
Chase: Bowling is an American pastime.
Chase: And I won’t forget, Sox.
Me: You'd think with his current job position, he'd be all for it.
Me: I’ll have my answers ready.
Chase: Is he mad?
Chase: And thank you.
Me: Not sure yet. He’s a little hard to read sometimes. Guess I’m about to find out. He might be in the middle of poisoning my food.
Me: You’re welcome.
Chase: Eh, if he gets mad, he's an asshole. Don't sweat it, Sox. My offer still stands on working for me.
Me: Can I beat up bad guys?
Chase: LOL, um...as a lawyer, I'd say no.
Chase: But as a friend, I’d say why the hell not?
Me: I’ll make sure to delete that text if the cops come for me.