Page 120 of The Sadist and the Brat

“Um, I’d rather not answer that.”

“Better for me anyway,” he said. “I won’t have to lie.”

She smiled at that. “Sorry I put you in a bad spot last night.”

“I can handle it. Jack was more worried than mad, especially when I told him what we overheard.”

“About that,” she began. “Did he fill in what we didn’t hear?”

“Oh, yeah. You want verbatim, or the gist?”

“The gist will do.”

“Joel is still pissed you turned him down on Halloween, and went on some wild rant about how he could make you his slave girl or some shit. Jack told him you’d rather wrestle naked with crocodiles, but Joel was welcome to try. That was right before the whole ‘transfer of ownership’ nonsense. Cade backed him up—he was in there, too.”

“Oh.”

“He was really upset, Sadie,” Sam said. “You should call him.”

“I know, and I will.” Sadie winced and imagined she could feel her friend’s disapproval through the phone. “As soon as I figure out what to say.”

“I’d figure fast if I were you,” Sam said. “The longer you put it off, the harder it’s going to be.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to tell him I heard from you, that you’re okay. You all right with that?”

“Yeah,” she said, knowing if she asked, he’d keep quiet.

“Keep me posted, sweetie.”

“I will. Bye.”

“Bye. Oh, wait!”

Sadie lifted the phone back to her ear. “What?”

“What surprise did you leave for him at his apartment?”

Sadie winced. “I may have, possibly, sabotaged all of his liquor.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, then, “How?”

She chewed her lower lip. “Did you know that Jack really hates licorice? And that last month, I ordered some massage oil and got a sixteen-ounce bottle of licorice extract instead?”

“Holy shit.”

The stunned shock in his voice made her wince. “I know. It’s bad, right?”

“Honey, the technology does not exist to measure the shit storm you’ve landed yourself in with this one.”

“I left the really expensive bottle of Scotch alone,” she protested feebly.

“That may save you,” Sam said, and began to laugh. “Allof his liquor?”

“Except the expensive one,” she reminded him. “Turns out, sixteen ounces of extract goes a long way.”

He was still laughing. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

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