“Fighting? Since when?”
“Thanksgiving.” Mitch put her hands on the back of one of the chairs and leaned in.
“Really. Carol hasn’t said a thing.” He shrugged as if Carol’s ways were perpetually inexplicable then glanced over to his computer.
Mitch refused to take the hint. Thanksgiving felt like ancient history, but she suddenly realized there was a chance Brian hadn’t yet confronted the silicone s**t she’d left in here. She stood on her tiptoes for a better look at where it would be, but his desk obscured the spot.
Brian said, “So … what can I do for you?”
She didn’t have an answer, not only to his question but for why she was here.
“Do you want me to tell Carol something?”
“No. In fact, don’t even mention I stopped by.”
He put an innocent look on his face and said, “I was alone at
