Page 96 of Dancing in the Dark

“I was asking what you were busy doing, dipshit.” He slams the can back onto his desk. “Seems you’re always busy these days. I remember a time when you never turned down a chance to get dinner with me and Mayet. Now, you’re attached to your phone like it’s a third arm, and whenever it buzzes, you’ve suddenly got plans you don’t talk about.”

“I’m a single dad with a full-time job.” I shrug. “I already don’t have time to scratch my ass.”

“Try again,” he grunts. “You’ve been a dad for five years already. Same job, too. You still made time.”

“I’m trying to build something with Sera, so when I’m not working and I’m not parenting, I’m focusing there.”

“Nope.” He grabs his pen and twists it between his fingers. “You’ve been a dad and trying to woo Sera for years, too. This is a new level of busy. Something’s changed.” His slitted gaze drops to my phone. “This is new, and it’s got to do with whoever the fuck is texting you all the damn time.”

Yeah, well, I’m not gonna tell you about that shit, now, am I? Fuck.

“Management at the apartment?” I lie. “That’s your problem?”

“Management?”

“That was part of the deal, remember? I get a better place, income on the side, and cheap rent, and in exchange, I’ve gotta be available whenever they need me.” My phone buzzes again, but instead of unlocking it and reading my messages, I merely flip it over and meet Archer’s suspicious glare. “You’re sounding a little needy, Malone. I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Management is texting you?” Emerald eyes narrow with vicious cynicism. “That was them?”

“Uh huh.” It might be time to revisit the Slater and Datsun building, ride the elevator to the thirty-third floor, and jump out those windows. Anything to escape this conversation. “They have a guy coming later to inspect the new HVAC system. They wanna make sure it’s running efficiently or some shit, so…” I shrug.

Stop asking questions. Fuck!

“Malone!” Fabian’s barking command bounces from his office. “Fletcher. In here.”

“Wonder what we’re in trouble for this time?” I bound up from my chair and slip my phone into my back pocket. “Come on. If we’re lucky, maybe he’s giving us permission to roll all those formal requests into tubes, then we can take turns shoving them in both ends of Markum’s body. I get the feeling he’d like it.”

“No, wait.” He jumps to his feet and races around his chair, slamming his hand against my chest to stop my escape. “You’d talk to me, right?”

My heart thunders with nerves. “What?”

“If you needed help.” He looks to his left, and then to the right, lowering his voice as a couple of uniformed cops wander past. “If you got caught up in something you don’t know how to get out of, you could come to me.”

“Arch—”

“If you need money, you know I’m good for it. If you need advice, or someone to bounce some shit off of, I’m here.” He inches to the left and forces himself into my line of sight. “If someone is fucking with you, you know I’d step in and make it better, right?”

“Of course.” I force a bright smile. Everything is fine. Everything is dandy. “I’m good, I promise.”

His eyes narrow with skepticism. “We’re pretty tight, right? We know everything about each other.”

“Dude, you’re reading all this wrong. You need to chi⁠—”

“Tight,” he repeats firmly, then lowering his voice to barely above a whisper, he adds, “Supermax tight. So if you’re shy or scared or ashamed or whatever, there’s nothing you could tell me that would make me blink.”

“I know.”

“You sure?” He stares hard. “So you’d tell me if something was wrong?”

“I’d tell you if something was wrong.” I drop my hands into my pockets and lower my gaze. “Me being busy doesn’t mean I don’t have time for you, and it doesn’t mean I’m in trouble. It just means… I’m busy.” I shrug. “I’m finally in a position where I can kinda see the edge of the hole I fell into years ago. I’m keeping my nose clean here at work, earning a bit extra on the side and tossing every penny into savings for the first time in too long, I’m showing up for Moo, though I know I didn’t always, and every now and again, when I’m super lucky, my schedule aligns with Sera’s, and for a few minutes, I get to know what paradise feels like. I’m not being secretive for the sake of keeping secrets. I’m just doing my best to get through each day, knowing that hole is nearby, waiting to suck me back in.”

“Malone!” Fabian snarls, louder and meaner. “Fletcher! Now.”

“He’s so sick of our shit,” I chuckle, stepping around Archer and continuing toward Fabian’s open office door. “He’ll announce his retirement soon just to get away from us. Or he’ll bump us down to meter maid duty. Possibly both.” I glance back and meet Arch’s still-suspicious glare. “Bumping us down might be the last order he makes before he takes his pension and gives up the luxuries of a broom closet for an office.” I slow by Fabian’s door and peek in. No Markum. Thank fuck. “Lieutenant?”

“In.” He nods toward the crappy visitor’s chairs opposite his desk. “And close the door.”

Meter maid duty, here we come.