* * *
Everett “Duck”Duckworth and Matt “Boomer” Joseph were still cleaning the rig, but Brandon was sitting at a table at the station house, rag in hand as he listened to her whine. “What do you plan to do about it?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose with a finger and thumb. That headache would never go away, the one that was caused purely by stress. “I don’t plan to do a damn thing about it, Maria. There’s nothing Icando about it. You got every penny of my savings and my retirement. You’ve got the house up for sale. I had to sell my car. What the fuck do you want me to do? Plasma’s not going for that much these days, and I only have so much of it. Actually, I have a lot less because you’re bleeding me dry.”
“Bleeding you dry? You’re the one who?”
“Okay. I’m done. Yes. I fucked up. I’m well aware of that. Everybody from the president to the pope has let me know that in no uncertain terms. But I can’t give you money I don’t have, Maria, and I simply don’t have it.”
“Look, I just ordered two custom suits from the couture collection at?”
“Why? Can you not find your way to JCPenney?”
“What? I’m not shopping there! Are you insane?”
“No. Are you? Because if you ordered them, you’d better come up with a way to pay for them. I certainly can’t.”
“Then what am I supposed to wear?”
“I dunno. I’m sure you can find something at the thrift store.” He didn’t get a chance to say another word.
She hung up.
“Well, that was a verbal shit show,” he mumbled, then flicked through the contacts on his phone. When he found the right one, he hit it and waited.
She answered it abruptly with, “Tompkins.”
“Hey, JoElla. It’s Brandon.”
“Oh! Sorry. Thought you were a business call.”
“Nope. All pleasure.”Why the fuck do I keep saying the stupidest things?he asked himself. “So, um, are we still on for tomorrow night?”
“As far as I know.”
“Where would you like to go?”
He heard her sigh and wondered what that was about. “I don’t care. You choose.”
“Oooookay, well, I’ve been wanting to try that new Vietnamese place down on Oscar Drive.”
“Hmmm. That actually sounds pretty good.”
“Okay. Pick you up at six?”
“Sure.”
He chuckled. “I kinda need an address.”
“Oh! Yeah!” He grabbed a scrap of paper and a pencil and wrote it down. “So you’ll be here at six?”
“Yes, ma’am. I will. I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me too.”
He wanted to ask her why she didn’tsoundlike she was looking forward to it, and then he decided he might not like the answer. “Well, then, I’ll see you?”
“Brandon?”