Chapter 18 - Pasta for Dinner
“Well?" Dylan pressed on, as I was still thinking. I had no answer that would make sense.
“What’s with the drill? Are you the police, or something?”
“I want to know, I saw the beat up car he came in and the luxury car that picked him up. What’s with that?”
I felt heat crawl up my neck.
“He’s a contact from work,” I tried. The words sounded thin.
“A contact? Like, he’s a client? Is he your boss?” Dylan asked.
“Not exactly.”
“Your friend? Or… Aren’t you dating that cop guy?”
“What? I am! Nick. I’m dating Nick.”
“So, who’s he? What’s his name, mom?”
“He’s Daniel, and… I… I consult for him, ok? He showed up at the office the other day, asked some questions but he didn’t need any other lawyers. He needed some leg work from someone who knows their way ar
