"It's true," I insisted.
"Is it?"
"Okay," I said. "I get it. Iknowit was crappy. And I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk about the Debbie thing, well, I guess that's your business." I crossed my arms. "And I won't bother you about it anymore." I hesitated. "If that's what you really want."
"Good," he said. "You ready to go?"
I gave an exasperated sigh. "In case you're not aware of this fact, when someone apologizes to you, you're supposed to say something like 'that's okay', or 'hey, don't worry about it."
"That's okay. Don't worry about it. Now, you ready?"
"No," I said. "Not when you're still mad about it."And not when I'm still dying to know.
"Since we're still asking questions," he said, "I've got another one."
"What?"
"Why didn't you tell me about Vince?"
I shook my head. "Tell you what, exactly?"
"That he was here last night."
"I don't know," I said. "I guess I should have. I meant to."
Jake's voice was flat. "You meant to."
"Oh for crying out loud," I said. "In case you forgot? You and me? We got a little distracted last night. Remember?"
"If you're trying to change the subject," he said, "forget it."
"There's a subject?" I said.
"Yeah. Vince."
"What's wrong?" I said. "Are you worried he stole something? Because you'll be glad to know I didn't let the guy out of my sight."
"Glad?" he said. "I'm supposed to be fuckin' glad?"
"Jeez, what are you worried about?" My voice grew sarcastic. "That he stole the good silver?"
"You think I give two shits about…?" Jake's eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell is good silver?"
"I don't know," I said. "It's just an expression. I think it means nice silverware."
"Okay, I don't give two shits about silverware."
"Then what is it?" I said. "Cash? Coins? Something else?"
"Not something," he said. "Someone."
"Who?"
Jake's voice grew deadly serious. "You."
