“So, you walked along the beach and saw some old crap,” Wyatt snickered, slipping into his natural New York accent, “while I busted my ass for toothless Joe.” Joe was a researcher who Wyatt often had to work with when I was off working elsewhere. He was something else, to say the least. “Who, by the way, spelled ‘party’ wrong. Party! Girl, my first language is English, and even I can spell party in Italian.”
“Don’t make me laugh.” I had to pull the phone away while I got myself under control. He always had a way of cracking me up, and I loved him for it. “I’ll mess up my eyeliner.”
“Whatever. You can’t screw that face up even if you tried.”
“Right.” I rolled my eyes at his lame flirting.
“Well, what’s he like?”
“I don’t know.” I pushed the wand into the mascara tube. “He’s nice enough
