“We’re a little early. You want to have a smoke before we go up?”
Hank eyed Ollie across the seat from him in the car, his mouth open in surprise. “Seriously? You’re inviting me to smoke?”
“Well, you know I’d rather you quit. But with the traffic and all, I gave us too much time, and I am not going to barge in on a client—” He glanced down at his bright orange watch. “—twenty minutes before we’re supposed to be there.”
“Is this some kind of trap?” Hank fingered the pack of Marlboro Reds in his pocket, and the itch to have one commenced.
Ollie chuckled. “No. Just a way to pass the time.”
Hank needed no further encouragement. He hopped out of the car, headed toward the rear of it, leaned against the fender, and lit up. Ollie joined him. “I’ll never get it.”
“What?”
“So many cooks, che
