Chapter 58

“It’s not broken,” he announced.

“I know,” I said. “I’m fine. Really. Listen, could someone at least hand me my shorts? Any shorts?”

Doing me a favor, if not the one I’d requested, Colin handed me a margarita, then plopped his round butt on the tiled counter. “What happened to your face, Dickie?” he asked, eyes wide. As if Joaquin and I hadn’t each already taken it in his turn to describe the accident in detail.

I took a gulp of blended tequila. Coughed half of it back into my glass because Colin’s margaritas taste like turpentine, then hobbled into the living room and got my own dang shorts. “I hit the back of the seat,” I explained again as I buttoned them up.

“How come?”

“I don’t know what happened, exactly. I wasn’t paying attention, we just all of a sudden slammed into the car in front of us. Then this guy got out of it.” I flailed an arm in Joaquin’s general direction. “Speaking of whom, not to be rude, what is he doing here?”