Chapter 55

“You don’t look good,” said Chad, the two of us now at his front door.

“The ankle,” I replied. “Hurts.” He opened the door. We would be alone in the house. I’d made sure of that. I told the hubby I had new evidence, something big, something I needed to give to him in person: the lab results. I’d been holding them as collateral, in case I needed them for a trade. Today was the day.

We were inside a moment later. Place was massive. The entryway was like a Hollywood movie, winding stairwell, crystal-dripping chandelier, and marble floors included. I suddenly felt the urge to yodel, just to, you know, hear my own echo.

“Wow,” I exhaled.

He chuckled. His package bounced. Not that I was looking, except, duh, I was looking. Mainly because I was trying not to stare at his chest, and so my peepers were focused south of the Equator. “Yeah, Arthur did well for himself.”