“Tell her you have a buyer.”
I threw myself back on the bed and kicked out of my shoes. “Who? You?”
“Yes.”
I could hear Vic getting ready on the other end of the phone, the sound of drawers opening and closing, the sound of running water.
“Why would you want a black panther? Oh, wait. Do you have a collection?”
He laughed. “No but she obviously needs the money. Did you ask her why she insisted on that exact dollar amount?”
I hadn’t. I hadn’t even thought to. “No, of course not.”
“Well, she needs a hundred and seventy-five dollars for some reason, and I would be okay with having a kitschy black panther sitting on a shelf somewhere.”
I unbuttoned my shirt, cradling the phone between my shoulder and ear while I tried to slip out of its sleeves without having to completely sit up. It w
