“Are we done talkin’?”
“No.”
“Then maybe you should talk.”
God, I was such an idiot.
“You cook?” I asked.
“No,” Vance answered.
I blinked at my burrito. “Didn’t you just say you were making dinner?”
“There’s a tray of what looks like incinerated brownies on your stove. I’m guessin’ we’d do better to take our chances with me.”
He was probably right. Still, it was slightly embarrassing.
I made a mental note to throw out the brownie tray. “Nick normally cooks. Maybe we should bum a meal off him.”
“I like Nick, Princess, but I been away for three days, you just let your guard down and told me you’re off with the girls for part of the night. That’s about all I’m willin’ to share.”
Uh-oh.
“Um…”
“That doesn’t sound like a good ‘um’.”
Throughout our conversation he’d sounded mellow, relaxed, in a good mood, amused. Now, he did not.
“I kinda promised to go ride-along with Luke tonight.”
Silence.
“Vance?”
“How ‘kinda’?”
“Kind of, definitely, kinda.”
The phone came away from his mouth but I still heard him swear. Then his voice was back in my ear. “I thought we agreed you’d call him.”
“We did.”
“You need to call him.”
“I did.”
Silence for a beat then, “Did you actually speak to him?”
“Yes.”
“So tell me how did your tellin’ him to back off translate into a ride-along?”
Yes, I was right. Vance had definitely lost his mellow, relaxed, amused, good mood.
“He understands about Yoko Ono,” I explained, “it’ll be all right.”
More silence then, “Maybe you should explain to me about Yoko Ono.”