Fatal Foul Play

“Just make sure.”

He checked for a pulse and then held a small mirror to the victim’s nose and mouth, but there was nothing. “He’s definitely dead.”

“Good.”

The little man shuddered, looking down at himself. “I’ve got his blood all over me.”

“Better dispose of those clothes once you get home.”

“That’s a good idea. They’ll never come clean. How did you get him sleeping so soundly?”

“The senator is—was—a creature of habit. He had a snifter of brandy every night. Since I was here to discuss business, he asked me to join him, as I figured he would. It was a simple matter to dissolve a sedative in his drink. He got sleepy, I excused myself, and he stretched out on the sofa for a nap. When he was asleep, I came back in with you following behind.”

“But if you were going to put something in his drink anyway, why not just poison him?”

“Funny you should say that.”

“Why?”

“Nothing. I felt poison would have been less believable for a man like the senator, that’s all.”

“Personally, I think poison would have looked more like a suicide than him stabbing himself on the sofa.”

“I don’t care what you think. Besides, it’s over and done now. Pick the knife back up and put it in his hand. His lefthand. He was a leftie,” the one in black said, going to the bar and pouring two whiskies, neat.

“Here,” he said, walking back and handing the little man one of the drinks. “Let’s celebrate.”

They clinked glasses over the corpse, which was still oozing blood.

“We should go now,” the little man said nervously, glancing about, his hands trembling.

“There’s no rush. No one will come until later tomorrow morning. Besides, we still need to do the suicide note.”

“Oh, yes, right. How will we do that again? I mean, you said he had distinctive handwriting.”

“He did, so we’ll print it out instead. I’ll dictate to you what to say because I think better when I talk. You’ll write it down as I speak, then I’ll type it into the computer and print it.”

“You know his computer password?”

“Yes. And I think I can forge his signature pretty well. I have a copy of it with me.”

The little man looked doubtful but nodded nonetheless. “Okay, I guess so. I’ll have to take my gloves off to write, though.”

“We can take the pen with us, so don’t worry about fingerprints.”

“I suppose that would be okay.” He set his glass down, tugged off his gloves and set them aside, and then picked up his drink once more. “Oh, shit, the glass. Now it has my prints on it, too.”

“Don’t be stupid. We’ll wipe the glass clean and wash them both before we go. Here,” the one in black said, handing him a pad and pen, which he took in his trembling right hand. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I—I’ve just never killed anyone before.”

“A first time for everything. And a last, I’m afraid. But I’ve found killing someone is surprisingly easy.”

“Yes, I guess so. For you, anyway. So, this takes care of everything, right? He can’t tell on us. It’s over.”

“Dead men tell no tales, as they say, and he was the man who knew too much.”

“Right, but I mean, what we’ve been doing is over now, too, right? It’s finished? You’ll hold up your end of the bargain? There’s no need to continue now that the senator is dead.”

“Yes, that was our agreement. You help me kill him, and then we go our separate ways. So, are you ready?”

“I think so. The worst is over, so let’s finish and get out of here.”

I agree, but you’d better sit down, your hand is still shaking.”

“Hmm? Oh yes, right, right.” He took a seat in an armchair and readied the pen as he took a large drink of whiskey. “All right, go ahead. What should we say? Or rather, what would he say?”

“Good question, let me think. Why would Chase Wellington kill himself? He had everything most people would want, even though he was a son of a bitch. Most people who have everything usually are, though. He cheated, lied, bribed, and stole from anyone he could, but I digress. What to say, what to say? Hmm, all right, start with this and don’t improvise. ‘To who it may concern. I know what I did, but I couldn’t help it. I know it was wrong. He had to be stopped, and there was no other way. Forgive me, and farewell.’ How’s that? Did you get it all?”

The little man stopped writing and looked up, taking another sip from his glass. “Yes, yes, I got it all, exactly as you dictated it. But I don’t understand it. Who are you referring to, or would he be referring to, I should say, that had to be stopped? Who would Chase Wellington want to stop, and how would he do that by killing himself? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Good point. Maybe it needs some work. Let me see what you’ve written.”

“All right, here.” The smaller man handed the pad of paper to the one in black, who took it in his gloved hands and read it silently.

“It’s legible, even with a shaky hand.”

“Um, thanks. But we should go now,” the little man said, finishing his drink and clutching the empty glass. “I don’t feel so well. Just type it up the way it is, print it out, and let’s get out of here. Forget about it making sense. It will keep them guessing, anyway.”

“Yes, good idea. You won’t tell anyone about this, will you?”

“Of, of course not. You can trust me,” he said. He was slurring his words and sounded drunk. The empty glass tumbled from his fingers onto the carpet with a thunk.

“Good. You know what they say, though. The only way to keep a secret between two people is if one of them is dead.”

The little man chuckled nervously. He was sweating even more now and twitching all over. “Ha ha, yes. I feel so strange, my heart is racing. Maybe I should…should lie down or something. But not here, that wouldn’t be good, wouldn’t be safe. We must, we must go…” His words tapered off as he began convulsing, his eyes red and large as he stared up at the black-cloaked figure and gasped for breath. “The drink. What did you put in my drink?”

“Just something to help you relax and sleep. A good, long, forever sleep, my friend. That’s why it was funny when you mentioned poison before.”

“What? You poisoned me? Why? Why?” He tried to stand but fell over onto the floor, fighting for breath, trying to force oxygen into his lungs.

“Because as I said, the only way to keep a secret between two people is for one of them to be dead. And that is you, or soon will be. In the morning they’ll find you here with Chase’s body. They’ll find your suicide note you just wrote, in your handwriting, and your fingerprints on the pad and the pen. They will assume you killed Chase because you felt he was an evil, corrupt person. Which he was, but that’s beside the point. They’ll also find the knife with your fingerprints on it nearby. Once you’re dead, I’ll take it out of Chase’s hand and wipe his fingerprints off it. Then I’ll get your prints on it and put it next to your body. I’ll also make it look like there was a bit of a struggle. I’ll knock over a lamp, turn the coffee table over, that sort of thing. But the senator was old, and they’ll believe you clearly overpowered him. I’ll have to drag his fat ass onto the floor, of course, to make the struggle more believable, but I think I can handle that.”

“You, you, you’ll never get away…”

“Get away with it? Oh, but I think I will. It’s all in the attention to detail, you see. They’ll do an autopsy on you most likely, and they’ll find the poison, which they will also find traces of in the empty glass, which also has your prints on it. Before I leave, I will be sure to wash and dry my own glass and return it to the cupboard. Nice and tidy.”

The little man tried once more to speak but found he couldn’t, gasping his last breath before dying in mid-convulsion.

“Oh, yes. They’ll find your prints on the bottle of poison, too, after I wrap your fingers about it. Can’t forget that.” He checked for vital signs but found none. The evil deed was done.

Chapter Two

Late Friday afternoon, February 2, 2024

Kobalt Bar, Phoenix, Arizona

Milo, dressed in faded blue jeans and a tight-fitting white polo that showed off his biceps and his tan, fiddled with the small, black plastic straw in his gin and tonic and stared across the table at his friend Mark. “It’s kind of cool out here on the patio, don’t you think? We’re in the shade, and it’s sixty-eight degrees according to my watch. Plus, the smoke from that guy’s cigarette is blowing right at us. Why don’t we move inside? It’s practically deserted out here, anyway, except for that large group of regulars over there at that big table.”

Mark glanced at the gathering of men and one woman nearby, headed by a distinguished-looking gray-haired man. “We should join them some time, Milo. They look like fun, and I heard they all go to dinner every week after they leave here.”

“Sure, but not today. They’re here every Friday for happy hour, so we can join them when it’s warmer. Right now, I’m feeling a bit cold, and I’m in jeans and a polo. Let’s go inside.”

“Hmm? Oh, it’s too crowded and noisy in the bar. The smoker will leave soon, and it’s not that bad temperature-wise.” He looked back down at his phone.

“I don’t know how you can’t be chilly. You’re only wearing a T-shirt and shorts.”

“I’m hot-blooded, I guess,” Mark said, not looking up this time.

“I think you just like wearing shorts because you know you look so good in them, and you’d rather freeze than not look good.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Milo sighed, finished his gin and tonic, and set the empty glass, the lime slice clinging to the rim, on the tiled tabletop next to a table card advertising Star Lift: A Phenomenal Drag Review. “I should have brought a jacket, but it was warmer earlier. Want another drink?”

“Hmm?” Mark looked up again briefly.

“I said, do you want another drink?”

“Oh, sure, why not?”

“Okay. And will you stop looking at your phone? It’s rude. What could possibly be on there that’s more interesting than me in the here and now? Did you sign up for Grindr or something?” Milo said in an annoyed tone as he signaled Tony, the cute young server in painted-on, ripped jeans and a tight blue tank top, for another round.

Mark switched his phone off, set it down on the table, and looked across at Milo. “You’re right, sorry.”

“Thanks. If you’re going to stare at your phone, at least have the courtesy to excuse yourself and do it in the bathroom like normal people. And don’t roll your eyes.”

Mark laughed. “Then don’t say shit like that.”

“I’m only half kidding.”

“I know, and you’re right, I was being rude. And no, I didn’t set up a Grindr account.”

“Good. You’re too old for it anyway,” Milo said.

“Gee, thanks. I’m only fifty-four, for Christ’s sake. Besides, I’m young at heart.”

“I think most of the guys on Grindr are much younger than you. Well, maybe they have an app for old folks. See if they have one called Geezer.”

“You’re hilarious, and you’re also only five years younger than I am,” Mark said.

“You needn’t remind me.”

“I know, but I enjoy doing it. You turn fifty this November.”

“Cruel and vicious you are.”

“What are you, Yoda all of a sudden?” Mark said.

“Maybe. Wise, I am.”

“Wise ass, anyway.”

“Ha. You’re just cross because you haven’t had sex in like forever,” Milo said.

“Don’t exaggerate. Besides, I’m particular. And I’m not on PrEP.”

“True, but you use those as excuses. You could be on PrEP if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, but what for? I mean, I was on it, but now I don’t have sex. At least not with anyone besides myself.”

“Can’t get much safer.”

“Right, and I’m fine with that, mostly.”

“Well, I suppose it’s sex with someone you love, anyway, as Woody Allen so famously once said.”

Mark chuckled, his blue eyes bright. “That’s one way of putting it. I call it taking matters into my own hands.”

“It takes both hands?”

“Funny guy. I’m just saying I don’t want, or need, an anonymous hook-up just to accomplish what I can do myself, and probably more satisfactorily.”

“So, you don’t want some hot, young stud to call you daddy? Take my word for it, there are a ton of young men in Phoenix who would love to, and they probably are on Grindr.”

“Ugh, I know, but I hate thinking of myself as a daddy. And I don’t want a young guy or even an older one, for that matter. I don’t want anyone right now.”

“Because you’re still carrying a torch for you know who,” Milo said.

“You mean Brick.”

Milo scrunched up his face. “If you must mention his name, then yes, Brick.”

“Funny you should bring him up.”

“I didn’t.”

“You did, you just didn’t say his name. I knew who you meant. Anyway, I heard from him today.”

“Did you now? Is that why you’ve been staring at your phone for the last ten minutes?”

“It was only five minutes at the most, Milo. And yes. I got an email from him. That’s what I was reading.”

“Ugh. Who uses email anymore? What is he, eighty?”

“I use email.”

“I suppose you actually call people on the phone, too. Well, I don’t hold it against you. But seriously, anyone under forty texts now. They don’t email or call unless absolutely necessary.”

“There you go. I’m not under forty.”

“But that doesn’t mean you have to act like an old man.”

“I don’t think sending emails is acting like an old man.”

“Maybe not, but it’s a start. Next thing you know you’ll have a favorite bench at Encanto Park to sit and feed the pigeons.”

“You’re hilarious. Lots of people send emails every day, including those under forty.”

“Only if it can’t be said in a text.”

Mark picked his phone up off the table, glanced down at it, and punched a few buttons. Seconds later, Milo’s phone pinged.

Milo slid his iPhone out of his back jeans pocket and read the text Mark had sent. He put his phone on the table and raised a brow at Mark. “Very funny. And also very rude.”

“You started it.”

Milo grinned. “And you finished it. We make a good team, in my opinion.”

“I can’t argue that.”

Tony brought over two more gin and tonics as the smoker ground out his cigarette and went inside. “Here ya go, boys. Enjoy.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Mark said.

“Yes, thanks. Put it on my tab again,” Milo said.

“Will do.” Tony smiled at Mark and flashed his hands in front of his face, palms in. “Like my nails?”

“Yes, they’re very blue,” Mark said.

“They match my eyes. And yours,” Tony said, winking at him. “Just call me if you need anything else, hon.”

“Sure,” Mark said.

Tony winked once more, picked up the empties, and sashayed away, swinging his hips from side to side like a pendulum as they stared after him.

“I never get tired of that view,” Mark said.

“Nor I. And I think Tony likes you.”

“You’re imagining things. Tony likes my big tips, that’s all.”

“I’m sure he’d like more than just the tip.”

“You’re terrible, Milo.”

“Oh, you know I’m all talk. Besides, I’m paying for the drinks, not you, remember? So, he’s not just looking for a big tip, though I’m sure yours is quite nice.”

“Honestly, Milo. The things you say sometimes.”

“I admit I’m a big flirt, but I’m harmless.”

“Harmless like a rattlesnake.”

“Hissssss,” Milo said, sticking out his long tongue and bringing it to the tip of his nose.

Mark laughed and rolled his eyes again. “You and that tongue of yours.”

“Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment. And rattlesnakes do hiss, you know, in addition to rattling.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Good, because it’s true. Besides, hissing was easier than rattling. I just can’t shake my behind like I used to. Cheers.”

“Cheers, and thanks for putting it on your tab, but I could have gotten this round.”

“I don’t mind. You’re worth it.”

“I’ll pay next time,” Mark said, clinking his glass against Milo’s and taking a swallow.

“Sure. So, what were we talking about? Oh yes. Brick emailed you. What does that troll want?”

“Brick’s not a troll. He’s my ex. We were in a relationship for fourteen months.”

“Fourteen long, torturous months until he dumped you.”

“He didn’t dump me, he moved away.”

“Without asking you to go with him.”

“He didn’t ask because he didn’t want to put me in an awkward position.”

“Why not? Personally, I enjoy awkward positions. It keeps things interesting. That’s why I do yoga. It pays to be flexible.”

“I thought you did yoga because you’re hot for the instructor. What’s his name again, Twig?”

“Leaf. He’s twenty-nine, and he has a fantastic body. But so far, after almost two months of rigorous classes, he’s barely spoken two words to me. I even gave him my phone number, but he hasn’t used it.”

“Maybe he’s straight.”

Milo considered this briefly. “Hmm, I suppose that’s possible.”

“Or maybe he’s involved with someone. Or just busy. He’s too young for you, anyway.”

“I’m not saying I’d marry him, Mark, just play with him for a bit. It’s just the thrill of it all, and it’s a great feeling. He also plays trumpet, by the way. You should see his lips. I bet he can really blow.”

“A young man with a horn and a horny old man. You’re funny. You like to play but yet you never seem to date anyone. Not since, well, you know.”

“Not since Steve died six years ago. I know. I was a widower at forty-three and still single at forty-nine.”

“Yeah, sorry. I wish I’d had the chance to meet him.”

“Thanks. He was a terrific guy. A lot like you, actually, yet also quite different. We were together sixteen years.”

“I remember you telling me that. And now you’ve given up on dating anyone seriously.”

Milo shook his head. “Not true. I’m just also particular, like you. And I am on PrEP. I don’t see anything wrong with playing now and then when the opportunity arises, and one never knows when that opportunity may arise.”

Mark smiled. “I suppose I should look into PrEP again. Better safe than sorry.”

Milo raised an eyebrow. “You mean now that Brick’s contacted you?”

“No. No. Just, well, you never know, you know?”

“I do know, all too well.”

Mark sighed. “You know me better than most, Milo. How long have we known each other, two years now?”

“Two years and a little over three months. We met at a Halloween party in 2021. I was solo, but you were there with Spider-Man.”

“That’s right. And you were dressed as the teacher’s pet, with a collar, a bone, and a harness.”

“Ugh, I had to keep explaining my costume to everyone. It would have been better if my date hadn’t canceled at the last minute. He was supposed to be dressed as the teacher.”

“Still, you looked hot.”

“Thanks. I must admit it was pretty hilarious when your boyfriend got so drunk and so high, he thought he really was Spider-Man and tried to climb the wall.”

“Oh yes. What a tangled web of a mess he was,” Mark said with a soft chuckle.

“To say the least. You broke up with him in the middle of December. He didn’t take it well, as I recall.”

“He definitely didn’t. Spidey caused quite a scene on the patio of the Farish House restaurant when I ended it.”

“I remember. After that, I thought you’d take a few months and catch your breath, but then you met Brick at Rod and Michael’s New Year’s party just a couple of weeks later.”

“I hadn’t planned on meeting anyone so soon. It just happened.”

“As it is wont to do, sometimes.” Milo sighed. “I was supposed to go to that party also but ended up getting Covid.”

“I remember. Since neither of us had dates and we were going to go together, I thought about staying home, too, but you insisted I go without you, and I wore a mask, just to be safe, even though I’d tested negative for Covid. If I hadn’t gone, Brick and I would never have met.”

“Don’t remind me. And the two of you lasted until last March. A record for you.”

“I think I could have made it work with Brick long term.”

“If he hadn’t dumped you the minute he got a job offer out East.”

“That’s not completely fair, Milo. He’d lost his job here, and it was a good opportunity.”

“You mean he’d lost another job. He seemed to go through them rapidly.”

“Be that as it may, Brick knew I couldn’t go with him to Boston because I have my career and all my friends here in Phoenix, and I’m getting close to retirement. I just couldn’t start over somewhere else at this stage in my life, and he knew that.”

“Right. So he didn’t ask. You claim he knew he just couldn’t. Still, it would have been nice if he’d asked, wouldn’t it?”

Mark nodded. “I suppose. Instead, he just…ended it.”

“Honestly, Mark, that was almost a year ago. You’ve been pining away for him ever since his plane took off. You’ve had that lover-come-back look in your eyes for months. It’s time to let it go and move on.”

“I’m just not ready. Steve’s been gone six years and you’re still not ready.”

“Says who? I’ll always love Steve, but he wouldn’t want me to sit and mope, crying into my gin and tonics. He’d be happy knowing I’m getting a little action now and then. In fact, if he were here, he’d probably want to watch. Who knows? Maybe he is watching from somewhere, observing everything I do and everyone I do.”

“That’s an interesting and somewhat disturbing thought,” Mark said. “And I’m glad you have fun, but it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to be in a relationship again.”

Milo took a sip of his drink and shrugged, shivering a bit in the cool shade. “Oh, I don’t know. Truth be told, I’ve got my eye on someone. I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“Who?”

“Better not tell. It’s bad luck.”

“Since when are you superstitious? Is it someone I know?”

“I’m not saying.”

“Okay, fine. I will say that whoever it is would be crazy to turn you down.”

Milo’s neatly trimmed brown eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

“Sure. You’re a terrific catch. Funny, successful, stable, an animal lover, employed, in great shape, and handsome. Even Brick admitted you’re a really good-looking guy.”

Milo’s eyebrows dropped down into a scowl. “Ugh, Brick. I thought the only man he found truly attractive was himself.”

Mark laughed. “I know he’s a bit conceited, but he has a right to be. The man’s almost sixty and looks hotter than most men half his age.”

“Gag. You know what I think?” Milo said, finishing his drink, “I think if Brick had stayed here, your relationship would have eventually petered out and it would have ended anyway. You would have ended it. You’re two very different people, in so many ways.”

Mark considered this as he chewed on his drink straw. “Maybe. Maybe it’s just the way it ended that got under my skin. It festers like a sliver.”

“Then dig it out and let the wound heal.”

“It’s not that easy. It all happened so fast at the end, and we had that big fight. Unresolved issues, my therapist called it.”

“A wise man. So, what does he want?”

“My therapist?”

Milo crossed his arms and stared at him. “Brick.”

“Oh,” Mark said. “Well, he’s turning sixty in a few days, and some old friends of his from Phoenix are throwing a party for him up in Flagstaff. Some old friends of ours, I should say, though I haven’t seen much of any of them since the breakup. I guess he got custody, which is only fair, I suppose. They were his friends before we met. He’s flying into Phoenix on Tuesday before he heads north Friday morning, and he wants to know if I’d like to have drinks with him Wednesday afternoon at Fez.”

“So, he’s returning to the scene of the crime?”

“There was no crime, Milo. He got a job in Boston, and he took it. No discussion, no asking me if I would go along, no conversation about doing a long-distance thing. Nothing. The end. But it wasn’t a crime.”

“What he did qualifies as one in my opinion. He hurt you.”

“You’re exaggerating again.”

“Am I?”

Mark looked uncomfortable. “Well, I mean, yeah, I was sad and admittedly a bit angry, but it’s not like he dumped me for someone else.”

“No, he just slept around while you were together. Behind your back.”

“That only happened once.”

“That you know of.”

“I believe him.”

“That makes one of us.”

“I cared for him, Milo. I still do.”

“Naturally, though I still think it was more lust than anything,” Milo said. “You two had hardly anything in common. And he’s also bisexual.”

Mark dropped the straw back into the glass and let out a slow breath. “I know.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being bisexual, of course, but he claimed sleeping with women wasn’t cheating on you because it wasn’t with another man. That’s bullshit, and you know it. I’m glad you were on PrEP back then.”

“Yeah, me too, and I got screened for STDs after I found out about him and that woman.”

“Yet you didn’t break up with him.”

“Our relationship was complicated, Milo.”

“Figuring out all of my remotes for the TV is complicated. What you and Brick had was just a mess.”

“You’re on a roll today.”

“Sorry,” Milo said, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward on the high-top table. “So, would you have gone to Boston if he had asked?”

“I’ve thought about that a lot. Honestly? No, I wouldn’t have.”

Milo sat back, satisfied. “There you go. Or there you didn’t go, and you’re much better off.”

Mark rubbed his face with his hands, covering his eyes. “Maybe. Ugh, why can’t relationships be easy?”

“No relationship ever is, the good ones or the bad ones.”

“You’re right there. Even the one I have with myself,” Mark said, dropping his hands to the table with a slap that rattled the gin and tonic glasses.

“Especially that one. You’re harder on yourself than anyone I know, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. You’re smart, attractive, kind, and successful, yet the longest you’ve ever been with anyone was the year and two months you spent with Brick, I believe. And you never lived with him. Or with anyone.”

“That’s not entirely true, Milo. Frank and I were together for nineteen years. He was the love of my life, and we lived together the entire time.”

“Until he died.”

Mark inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “Yeah, until he died. In my arms. It broke my heart more than Brick did.”

“So, you admit Brick broke your heart.”

“Yeah, I guess. It still hurts. Losing Brick and losing Frank.”

“You know, a broken heart has a tremendous ability to heal itself, as long as you don’t keep picking at the scab.”

“Hard not to. Brick’s been gone almost a year, and it’s been two and a half years since Frank died. I still miss him.”

“Mark, sweetie, I’m sure Frank was a sweetheart. But he was a cat.”

“Not just any cat. Frank was special.”

“But you can’t really call having a cat a relationship.”

“Maybe not, but he was better than any guy I’ve ever dated. Frank was loyal, sweet, and always there.”

“Where could he go? You said you never let him out.”

“Cats are safer and happier when kept indoors. You know that.”

“I know, and I agree. What I don’t understand is why you don’t get another. There are so many that need homes. My Josie is the love of my life, and I got her from the shelter when she was two years old. I still can’t believe someone abandoned her on the side of the road.”

“But someone else found her and turned her into the shelter, and then you adopted her. The ballad of Josie. She’s an awesome cat.”

“Thank you. I think so, too. So, what about it?”

Mark shrugged. “I’d like to adopt another kitty, or maybe an older dog, and I will at some point. Brick doesn’t like cats, as you know, and he’s afraid of dogs, so when he came along, just a little over a year after Frank passed away, I didn’t want to complicate things. But now…”

“Now you should go to the shelter and pick one out. And you need to find a man. A man that likes cats and dogs. Too bad they don’t have shelters for those.”

“What do I need a man again for? I’m happy being single, more or less.”

“Says you.”

“I am. It’s far less complicated. Besides, I’ve got my work, and that keeps me super busy.”

“And what about when you retire? You’ve got over twenty years of creditable service in, so you can retire next year when you turn fifty-five.”

Mark shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll keep working a while longer. Or I’ll travel.”

“By yourself? I’d go with you, of course, but I only get two weeks’ vacation.”

“I know, but I don’t mind traveling alone. To paraphrase what you said earlier, at least it’s with someone I love.”

“I wonder if that’s true. Do you love yourself, Mark? Or do you just tolerate yourself?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Now you sound like Brick. He said something similar to me when we broke up. He said I was insecure, full of self-doubt, had a fear of commitment, and that I had self-hatred issues.”

“Maybe he’s smarter than I thought,” Milo said dryly.

“Thanks a lot.”

“I just mean you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

“My therapist told me that, too. But I don’t think I have self-hatred issues. I just sometimes feel like I’ve failed at life.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because most guys my age are in or have been in committed, long-term relationships. Most guys my age aren’t seeing therapists to figure themselves out. Most guys my age know what they want. And most guys my age don’t get dumped by their boyfriends over a job offer.”

“Well, you’re nothing if not delusional, Mark. I don’t believe any of what you just said is true, and I can’t believe you do, either.”

Mark sighed, picking up his gin and tonic once more. “I don’t know what I believe anymore. Or what I want.”

“You’ll figure it out, and I’ll be here when you do. So, are you going to see him for drinks while he’s here?”

Mark took another swallow and looked at Milo over the top of the glass. “Brick? Sure, why not?”

“I could think of a few reasons why not.”

“Too late now. I already emailed him back a few minutes ago and accepted.”

“I see. Have you told your therapist about it?”

“I’m not seeing him anymore. He wanted me to commit to coming every week, and I just couldn’t.”

Milo shook his head and snorted. “He wanted you to commit to coming every week to discuss your commitment issues, and you couldn’t. If it weren’t so sad, it would be funny.”

“Ha ha. I meant I couldn’t afford to go every week. Anyway, I haven’t seen Brick in quite a while. It will be nice to catch up.”

“Is he still single?”

“My sources say yes.”

“Your sources being Matt and Brian in Boston.”

Mark shrugged. “They keep me up to date on things.”

“Things being the comings, goings, and dating habits of Brick Bartell.” Milo groaned. “Who names their kid Brick, by the way? I don’t know anyone else by that name, I mean aside from that little kid on that TV show a few years back. The strange one who was always whispering to himself.”

“The Middle.”

“Yes, that’s the one. I loved that show, but that can’t be where your Brick’s parents got the name from. He’s too old.”

“His mother loved Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and she loved Paul Newman. His character’s name in that movie was Brick.”

“Oh yes, you’re right. I haven’t seen that movie in ages, but it was a classic. We should watch it again sometime for our next movie night.”

“Sure, that would be fun. I’ll see if I can get it on streaming or at the library. You know, it’s funny, but Brick has never seen it. He hates old movies.”

“I remember that. He hates old movies and cats, is afraid of dogs, loves himself, dumped you, and he doesn’t like me. Like I said, he’s a troll.”