Chapter 15

Ivan smiled, and three more chins suddenly appeared. He wasn’t a big guy, but whatever he did to keep the weight off at his age—he was dragging the wrong side of fifty behind him—it didn’t do anything for him from the neck up. “Hustle is such an awful word. I prefer negotiations.”

“I was asking him what consignment shop rented out your decorations,” Joe said.

“He’s in love with your stereo,” Fess explained.

“Love’s a strong word,” Joe said, mimicking Ivan’s affected accent. If Fess had tried something like that, it would’ve come across as mean-spirited. Out of Joe’s mouth, it was merely humorous. “It’s more like a little crush.”

“That might be the only piece of furniture in here that we didn’t have to rent.” Natalie stroked the walnut lid, the caress almost sexual. “It was the first piece that Maren and I ever bought together.”

“This stoner in Milwaukee was selling it on Craigslist for his neighbor,” Maren added. “We got it for a song.”