Page 394 of Face Off
“You sure?”
“I have two teammates, a beautiful future wife in silver boots, and your credit card behind the bar.”
“She isn’t your future wife.”
The woman lifts one shoulder. “I haven’t decided.”
Briggs gestures toward her. “I could be planning a wedding by sunrise.”
“You could be arrested by sunrise.”
“That’s why you should stay.”
“You’ll call if you need me.”
“I always do.”
“No. You make jokes, get drunk, and wait for me to figure it out.”
His expression tightens. I hold his gaze. “Call me.”
“I will.”
“Say it like you mean it.”
“I’ll call you if I need you.”
I nod, and something easier returns to his face.
“Check your mail, Romeo.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Not when silver boots is right here.”
She smiles at him.
I leave before I am forced to witness whatever happens next.
The walk home takes less than five minutes. I do it in three.
I have become the kind of asshole who knows the building’s exact mail-delivery schedule. I know which days the regular carrier works, how late the substitute runs, and that nothing arrives on Sundays because I checked twice before accepting federal law wasn’t changing for my relationship problems.
The doorman looks up when I cross the lobby.
“Evening, Mr. Decker.”
“Anything come in?”
His mouth twitches. “Wouldn’t know. Federal offense.”
Everyone in this fucking building thinks they are funny.
I unlock my box and see her handwriting.
The effect remains immediate.
Charm’s letters have become the dividing line between nights I endure and nights I survive. I can go days without hearing from her and convince myself I am fine, then find one cream envelope inside this metal box and understand exactly how much effort the lie required.
