Kat visited me at WRDR and demanded, “You need to buy me a tea. Something from Tibet. Something with lemon. We have a lot to discuss.”
I looked up at her from my desk and asked, “What’s this about?”
“You probably know the answer to that already.”
I did: Ben Cutter and how I kept ignoring him.
Ten minutes later, we sat across from each other at Windsor Tea, Coffee, and Chocolates on Stedman Street in downtown Radar. Brahms mixed with Taylor Swift songs echoed down from the overhead speakers. Servers were dressed in green taffeta and looked like Christmas elves or leprechauns. I ordered a double shot coffee with Madagascar cream. She had a latte with one ice cube to cool it off.
“What are you doing, Sandford?”
Kat only used my first name in its entirety when she was pissed off. I didn’
