“Adjust in what way?” I continued, hoping to smooth over my transgression. His tightly coiled jaw muscle slowly softened. “I’m moving you into my place.” He sipped from his mug as though he’d suggested I take a cab instead of the train rather than declare where I’d live for the foreseeable future. “Move in? Here? For how long?” He shrugged. “Can’t say for sure.” “You can’t expect me to agree to that,” I balked. “Two months.” He said it like a counter, as though we were negotiating the price on a real estate deal. “Two months?” Holy s**t, that was a long time. Why the hell was he doing all this? “You going to tell me what this is all about? It doesn’t make any sense —you wanted to do business with Lawrence, but taking me from him put you at risk of losing that opportunity. And me moving in
