project an image of themselves, and then when you really get to know them, you realize too late that it’s all a fucking mirage. You can wave your hand, and it passes right through the image of who you thought they were. With Tom, there’s no posturing, no pretense.”
“Please, can we call him Koz? Calling him Tom makes it seem like this conversation is actually happening.”
“I’m just saying I think he is exactly who he seems to be.”
“Only more so, I suspect,” Finn said.
“Exactly. So what the fuck am I doing wrong?”
“You have to understand, things are pretty black and white in his world. I think he works more at the ‘me boy, you girl’ level. I’m just not sure he knows what to make of someone like you.”
“What the hell does that mean? ‘Someone like me’? That’s a shitty thing to say.”
“You know exactly what it means. You’re an intelligent, independent, modern woman. I’m not sure you fit into any mold that his brain can deal with.”
“Who said it was his brain I was interested in?”
“There. See, that’s what I’m talking about. I’m not sure, for example, that the idea of a woman with a libido is something he’s ready for.”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong. Women can sense these things. He’s more than ready for it.”
Finn shrugged. “Then, of course, there’s your vocabulary.”
“What the fuck are you talking about now?”
“Exactly.”
She paused, and Finn could tell that she was playing her words back in her head. Then she picked up her beer and took a contemplative sip. “Fuck you. I don’t think you’re giving Koz enough credit,” she said sullenly.
The voice came from behind them, over her shoulder. “That’s been the problem my whole life. People don’t give me enough credit.”
They both turned to see Kozlowski as he sidled up between them. Finn noticed Lissa’s face go white. “Koz,” he said. “How long have you been standing there?”
“I just walked in. Why? How long have you been badmouthing me?”
Lissa’s face instantly went from white to red, and Finn had trouble choking back a laugh in spite of the awkwardness. “Pretty much since we got here.”
“Really? Anything important I should know about?”
“Naw. We were just speculating about whether or not you were gay,” Finn said. Lissa kicked Finn hard in the shin, and he let out an involuntary yelp.
“Wishful thinking on your part, no doubt,” Kozlowski grunted to Finn, though there was good humor in his tone for once, if you knew where to look for it.
“No doubt,” Finn agreed.
“What do you want to drink?” Lissa offered, clearly desperate to change the subject.
“Scotch,” Kozlowski replied.
“Any particular flavor?”
He looked at Finn. “This asshole buying?”
Finn nodded.
“Then whatever’s most expensive.”
Chapter Te n
The three of them drank at the bar for another hour before Finn decided it was time to call it an evening. He had to stop by the office to pick up some work before heading home, and he wasn’t in for the long haul. He assumed he was the glue keeping the three of them together and that his departure would kill the gathering, but he was wrong.
“You want to stay for one more?” Lissa asked Kozlowski as Finn stood up. Finn viewed it as far too aggressive a move, and he cringed for her as he waited for the cavalcade of excuses to pour forth from the private detective: I have to get home or my frozen dinner may spoil. The History Channel is replaying my favorite episode of Weapons of the First World War. It’s my night to host the retired homicide detectives’ book club .
“Sure” was the response Kozlowski actually gave.
“Seriously?” Finn was unable to disguise his shock, and he could feel the sting of Lissa’s stare.
“Problem?” Kozlowski asked.
“No.” Finn felt like his tongue was too big for his mouth all of a sudden.
“Have a good weekend, then.”
“Fine. You two, too. Also.” Finn stood
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