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Chapter 17

“How do you handle harassment?” Steve asks, signaling Lou for a refill.

“There’s always somebody cracking jokes. Nothing personal, but it’s difficult not to feel that way sometimes.”

Lou comes over with a pitcher of lemonade. He fills Steve’s glass half way, ice chips clinking against the edge of the glass.

“How’re the eggs?” he asks me.

I slide the empty plate to the end of the table.

“That good?” he says. “Get anything else for you?”

I hold up a hand. “I’m full.”

He takes my plate back to the kitchen, and I pull out a ten-dollar bill.

“I can pay for my own lemonade,” Steve says.

“It’s on me.”

Steve sits back and stares at me. “Why the sudden interest in meeting right now?”

I fold my wallet into my back pocket and reach for my coffee cup to empty it. I take a drink, biding time, and slide the mug to the edge for Lou to pick up.