by Unknown
Mitch popped the last of his croissant in his mouth. “Who, the tabloids?”
“They want me to spill the dirt on Abby. Every time I say no they raise the ante—it’s up to two hundred and fifty.”
“Thousand?” Will was incredulous.
“And I’ve got plenty to spill, believe me. Hell, I’ve known her since she was typing letters for the children’s book editor and I was the little pisher in the next cubicle.”
“You’re still a little pisher.”
“Thank you for that, Mitchell.”
“My yiddish is a little rusty,” Dodge said. “Exactly what is a pisher?”
“She loathes kids, you know” Jeff said. “Calls them germ carriers, poop machines, fecal felons. . . . She hates them so much she even made me get a vasectomy. I can’t have children now.”
“I thought those were reversible in a lot of cases,” Will said.
“Not mine,” Jeff said. “My God-given right to sire children has been snipped away from me—all thanks to the top children’s author in America. Nice story, hunh? And how does the little skank repay me? By boning that-that glorified cab driver, that’s how. I swear, every time I see a box of Cocoa Pebbles I get nauseated.”
Mitch and the others exchanged an utterly bewildered look, but let it alone.
Dodge said, “Any chance you’ll take them up on their offer?”
“I’m flat broke, man. I might have to if she doesn’t give me what I want.”
“Which is . . .?”
“Twenty-five percent of the proceeds from the first book. My lawyer wants me to aim for the whole series, but that would be greedy. I’m not being greedy. I just . . . I deserve something, don’t I? I nursed that book along, night after that. I read every early draft, helped her refine it and craft it months before she ever submitted it.”
“Plus you are Carleton Carp,” Mitch added. “That ought to be worth something.”
“I am not a fish!” Jeff snapped, sucking his cheeks in and out.
Dodge, the human timepiece, climbed to his feet now, signifying that it was time to start back for his eight o’clock weight training. Mitch wondered if the man was ever late.
“You’ll never do it, Jeff,” Mitch said. “You’ll never sell out Abby to the tabloids.”
Jeff peered at him quizzically. “Why have you got so much faith in me?”
“Because you still love her, that’s why. No matter how upset you are, you could never hurt her that way.”
“You’re right,” Jeff admitted, reddening slightly. “Abby’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. I’d take her back in a flash. Answer me this, Dodger, what’s the secret?”
“To what?” Dodge asked.
“You and Martine have been together all these years, you’ve got a terrific thing going on—how do you do it?”
Mitch watched closely as Dodge considered this, the older man’s face betraying not one bit of what he’d just revealed to Mitch. “Jeff, there are so many things that factor into it,” he answered slowly. “Shared values, common interests and goals. Affection, respect, tolerance. But if I had to narrow it down to one word, it would be the same one that’s the secret to a happy friendship.”
“What is it?” Jeff pressed him.
Dodge shot a hard stare right at Will Durslag before he replied, “The word is trust.”
