Part 7 (1/2)
”Des was really mellow, I can't see anyone hating him. Not even Helga the n.a.z.i.”
”Helga the Gestapo Girl,” said Sanfelice, giggling, then turning grave. ”Sorry, we just... she didn't treat us good. Just getting our paychecks was a ha.s.sle. Sheryl, I mean. I was just an intern so I didn't get paid at all.”
”Which totally sucked,” said Pa.s.sant. ”You did the same job as me, Teen. You should've gotten paid the same as me. Helga sucks.”
Milo said, ”Wasn't the firm a partners.h.i.+p?”
”Marjie and Mr. Cohen didn't control the money, she did. The building was hers, the idea was hers, everything was hers. She was always talking like she was the one who'd made up Green. Like Al Gore had never existed. You think she killed Des?”
”You think she could've?”
The women looked at each other. Sanfelice stirred her drink. Pa.s.sant said, ”I'm not saying she'd have done it. But she's not like a regular person, you know?”
”Different,” said Sanfelice. ”She's from Europe.”
The red-s.h.i.+rted kid reappeared, this time bearing two plates.
Bacon burgers oozing with molten white and orange cheese, salads the size of a baby's head, a hay-bale of onion rings. ”Um, do you guys still want this?”
Bettina Sanfelice said, ”I was hungry but now I'm also feeling nauseous.”
Sheryl Pa.s.sant said, ”Yuck. Do we still have to pay?”
Milo said, ”Put the food down, son, and give me the check. Here's your tip in advance.” Forking over bills.
The kid said, ”Sweet.”
A few minutes of routine questions produced nothing new about Desmond Backer, whom the women described as ”Nice and totally hot.” The shock had worn off and they both seemed pleased at the attention.
Bettina Sanfelice studied her burger. ”It's probably gross but I'm going to try.”
Sheryl Pa.s.sant said, ”Not me.” Moments later, a grin as she bit in, wiped her chin. ”Guess I lied.”
Milo let them eat, offered drink refills. They declined. Sanfelice wholeheartedly, Pa.s.sant with some regret.
Milo stared at me.
I raised my eyebrows.
He c.o.c.ked his head to the side and when I didn't respond, said, ”My partner's gonna ask you some questions now. They're a little personal, so sorry. But we really need to ask.”
Waving the red-s.h.i.+rted kid over, he ordered an extra-large c.o.ke.
Both women had stopped eating.
Sheryl Pa.s.sant's thigh pressed hard against mine.
CHAPTER.
7.
Bettina Sanfelice said, ”Personal?”
Milo's eyebrows said Take it from here. Sheryl Pa.s.sant said, ”They mean s.e.x, Teen. Because Des was a horner from day one, right? Like he was put on this earth to do it.” The corners of her mouth turned up as she bent over her straw. Conspicuous slurp.
I said, ”Helga and Marjorie Holman both told us about a meeting where Des was discussed by all of you.”
Pa.s.sant grinned. ”Where we all admitted doing Des.”
Bettina Sanfelice's hand shot to her mouth.
”Stop being dorky, Teen. You did him, we all did him. So what?”
”OmiG.o.d.” Sanfelice hung her head.
Pa.s.sant laughed. ”I have always been her bad influence, that's why her mom has always hated me. Put a horn like Des with a bunch of girls, what do you think's going to have happened?”
I said, ”Helga said it didn't happen with her.”
”That's because she's never been human-stop spazzing, Teen, it's biology.”
Sanfelice said, ”I need to go to the bathroom.”
”In a sec, hon,” said Milo.
No argument.
Pa.s.sant said, ”The moment you met Des it was pretty clear he was after one thing.”
I said, ”Marjorie said he was pretty direct, just came out and asked.”
”At first, I thought it was gross. Like, are you kidding? But the way he did it made it not gross.”
”How so?”
”Not pushy, kind of ... friendly. Des made it all real friendly.”
Her foot rested on mine. Pressure just short of pain. I slid away. She smiled.
”Was it a onetime thing, or did-”
”Seven times for me. Lucky seven.”
Bettina Sanfelice gasped.