“Yeah, well….” He picked up the box and put it on the countertop again, then tried to thrust a handful of papers at me.
“What’s this?”
“These are all the directions, as well as which wine to serve with each course.”
“What’s with the phone number?”
“It’s my cell phone. I’m going to be up in New York, but I’ll keep it on. If you have any questions, call me!”
“No.”
“What?”
“You deaf all of a sudden, Novotny? I’m not taking the food or the wine.” I put the box of wine bottles onto the dolly again. “I have a perfectly good meal being delivered by a perfectly good catering company. It’s not that I don’t appreciate your offer”—I didn’t—”but it isn’t necessary.”
His face turned red, and for a second I thought the top of his skull would explode. I watched with interest to see if that would
