“You’re a fucker. I’m not joking.”
A smirk flickers to life as Rudy rubs a hand over his inky goatee. “Honestly? This pleases me.” He nods, puckering his lips. “I am pleased.”
“You are?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Lex frowns, looking dubious. “Figured you’d be pissed. I’m basically firing you.”
“For your dreams, Lex. For the woman of your dreams. That’s so fucking romantic.” When I inch my way into the camera lens with pink cheeks and wet eyes, Rudy sends me a wink and a wave. “This has always been your destiny, my man. Love winning out in the end. The swoon-worthy, epic finish that is supremely sappy but even more satisfying, where you get the girl and live happily ever after.” His sigh is dreamy. “Go ahead and fire me. Fire away.”
Joplin dances her way toward us, singing the chorus of “Hit Me with Your Best Shot,” her arms lifting skyward like she’s raising the roof.
Rudy squints as if he can see the room behind the phone. “Is that Stevie’s sister?”
Joplin pops into frame, slithering into the booth, her big green eyes aimed at the screen. “Hey, Rudy.”
He clears his throat, adjusting his bow tie. “You see that new true-crime podcast that aired last night? About the Anderson murders?”
She gasps, clasping both hands over her heart. “Yes! Donovan did it.”
“One hundred percent.”
“The fishing boat is a red herring.”
“Evidence points to that anonymous tip that came in about the woman who was seen near the dock.”
“Yes!”
“Changes everything.”
“Her name matches a relative from the old family estate’s will.”
“The real mystery is tied to the estate.”
“Donovan’s estate.”
Rudy’s eyes turn into starry-eyed emojis while harps begin to play.
Breathing out a laugh, Lex pulls the screen away from Joplin as she straightens from the booth and starts fanning herself.
She’s toast.
Regrouping, Lex wraps an arm around my shoulders and tugs me closer until we’re both positioned in the frame. “Can I get sentimental with you for a minute?”
“Fuck. Yes. I’ve been waiting for you to get on my level.”
“Even though I’m semi firing you, I still want to be…” He can barely get the word out. “Friends.”
“It’s not me, it’s you. I get it. The answer is yes.”
Lex grins.
“But if I’m not the best man in your wedding, it’s over.” Adjusting his glasses, Rudy tugs the phone closer until he’s all the way zoomed in. “I mean it, Lex. I have a speech prepared. It’s long, it’s inspiring, and it’s been sent to five different editors already. This moment is mine.”
“Deal.”
The two men share a smile that goes beyond Hollywood glitz and industry deadlines, rooted in genuine camaraderie and mutual respect.
