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"He is a rat but a rich rat. I shouldn't have taken on old Mrs. Cust either, but it was so satisfying to pay her back for the years of arrogance." She shrugged. "I'm sure I'll be paying more for that, but..."
"It was perfect, and everybody else thought so too." Ryan took another bite of steak. "Wait a minute, what do you mean by paying more?" The words were garbled a bit.
She’d forgotten to tell him about the attempted arson. That was dumb, except the more she thought about it, the angrier she got. But there was little she could do except spend money she didn’t have.
He scowled. "That son of a... I really wish I'd pounded him into dog meat."
"I kind of do too, except it would still end with you and me in jail." That wouldn’t help anyone.
"Shoot." He glared off into the distance for a while, then turned back to her. "You know, I'd kinda wondered why all my stuff got shoved around and about all the dirt on the stairs, but I wasn't sure I wanted to ask." Ryan grimaced. "Sorry I doubted you."
Erin huffed. "The apartment is yours, Ryan. I'll only enter it under emergency circumstances, like today, or with your permission. But I should have told you about the attempt right away. Sorry." She grimaced. “I didn’t want to think about it, and that’s not fair. You’re at risk, so you have to know.”
"I get it. It’s not a problem." He kept eating, including about a third of her steak.
They finished the meal in silence, but it was pleasant. After she cleared the plates, Erin said, "I got dessert, too. Want it now?"
Ryan groaned. "No. Too full. Maybe a little later? We could download a movie."
"Sure. Anything but Full Metal Jacket."
Ryan's look of horror was hilarious. "What's wrong with FMJ?"
"Nothing, but I've seen it—a lot." So. Many. Times.
"But it's got such great lines! And R. Lee Ermey. Gotta love that guy." He smiled fondly, like the guy was his grandpa.
She laughed. "He's great. But I’ve seen it enough."
"Hey, I'm just joking." He winked at her. "Maybe one of the new kids’ movies instead?"
"A kids’ movie? You?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "Wiz told me she really liked the last few."
"And how is Wiz?"
He shrugged again. "Hard to say, really. She's not willing to leave her Fortress of Solitude, but if you send her blueprints of the building and some pictures, she'll do the design, and then you can buy kits from Costco. She'll only charge you two hundred for the design because she says you must be an awesome person to put up with me." He laughed.
Erin chuckled. "You're no problem. You're the perfect employee, actually."
His smile crashed and burned. "Thanks. Movie?"
"Sure. Pick one out. Another beer, or something else?"
"I got it. Anything for you?"
"Nope. Thanks." She pulled up the TV listing, scanned through to the kids’ movies, then sat on the couch in her usual spot. Wonder why he went blank again? Maybe he was more worried about Wiz than he said. She didn't feel comfortable asking about it, though.
Ryan sat on the other end, with beer and water on the coffee table.
"There's a footrest if you want one." She handed him the controller. He quickly selected one of the first ones and glanced at her. She nodded.
"Cool." Ryan selected it and leaned back. "Do you mind?" He pointed at his prosthesis. He was wearing the one that looked like a hand. She didn't even notice anymore, and she wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
"No, of course not. Make yourself comfortable." Erin took a sip of her beer, not wanting to stare. But she watched out of the corner of her eye. He put the prosthesis on the coffee table and raised the stump—wait, no. What did he call it? Residual arm. It was important to get the terminology right. Raised the residual arm and massaged the end.
She had to ask. "Are you sure that doesn't hurt?"
