“Takes one to know one. Where are you?”
“I’m at home. But if you want me to fly to Ohio and sink to my knees at your feet, I don’t have anything on my agenda for the next few hours.”
“Don’t waste jet fuel on my account. I’m not feeling swayable this morning.”
“Maybe after you’ve had your coffee.”
“Doubtful.”
“I’ll call back later and try, sugar lips.”
“Sugar lips? I can’t even—That’s gross. Or possibly obscene, I’m not sure which.”
“It means you’re sweet to kiss, Katie. Get your mind out of the gutter. And then get your butt to Buffalo. I need your help.”
“You already know my terms.”
“I met them.”
“No, you sent me chocolate. Chocolate isn’t an apology or an explanation.”
“If it’s good chocolate, it shouldn’t matter. And I asked Paul to apologize.”
“He did, but Paul is not you. You can’t delegate apologies. It makes you look like an even bigger knob than you already are.”
“Did you just call me a knob?”
“I did.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Sure. Judah Pratt, world-famous heartthrob, complete knob. Tell me you’re sorry and I’ll think about coming back. Tell me every little detail and secret about the case you should’ve told me last weekend.”
“I will if you come to Buffalo.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He huffed a laugh. “Yeah. You probably shouldn’t.”
“ ’Bye, Judah.”
“Talk to you later, sweet cheeks.”
She hung up the phone.
Caleb stood on the threshold of his office, hands buried in his pockets, perplexity stamped all over his forehead.
“Spit it out,” she said, coming out from behind her desk and crossing to the table where they kept the Keurig coffeemaker and some sodas and snacks for the agents, who had a tendency to treat the office like a neighborhood hangout. Sometimes it was like working in a locker room.
She moved a cardboard box full of surveillance stuff out of the way, shoving it on the floor under the table. Camelot Security was outgrowing the space Caleb had rented a year ago. Ellen’s brother, Jamie, had not only given Caleb control of his own security detail, putting the company solidly in the black, he’d also referred a lot of his friends, who referred other people. Caleb was daydreaming aloud about opening a second location in Los Angeles.
“What’s going on with you two?” he asked.
She bent over to check that there was enough water in the reservoir for a giant cup of coffee. “I think we’re becoming friends,” she said wonderingly.
“You called him a ‘dickbag’ when you got home from Kentucky.”
“He is a dickbag. Kind of. But I like him. He keeps calling, and he can be a charming dickbag when he wants to.”