Waiting for Patrick Read Online Free Page B

bedroom.
    “I don’t know. Maybe your ghost is.”
    “I don’t have a ghost, Cher.” Elliot rolled his eyes even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “What I had was a kid too damned young to know that he was drunk or stoned and was seeing things; someone who decided to run out in the middle of the night instead of coming to his senses enough to wait for a ride the next morning.”
    “How did he get home?” Sheri finally sounded concerned.
    “Cab, I guess. I don’t know. I went back to sleep.” Elliot looked around for his clothes, debating whether he wanted to stay up or go back to bed.
    Sheri was indignant. “You didn’t make sure he got home okay? Make him call you or something?”
    “God, Sheri. It’s not like I’m dating him or something. He was a one-night stand who invited himself home, then got freaked out and wanted to leave. Not my responsibility.” Elliot decided it was just too much trouble to pick out clothes for the day, let alone pick up the ones from yesterday strewn all over his hardwood floor, and crawled back onto the bed instead, barely listening as Sheri said, “You can be an ass at times, Ellie.”
    “Why? Because I wanted to get some sleep instead of catering to the kid’s hallucinations?” Elliot slipped back under the smooth sheets and pulled the blanket up to his shoulders.
    “I can’t reason with you when you’re like this.”
    Elliot sighed as he snuggled his head into the pillow. “You called me, remember? Not the other way around. And too damned early on the morning after, if you ask me. So, if you got all the details you wanted, I’m going back to sleep now.”
    “I didn’t get all the details I wanted, but good enough for now, I guess.” Her voice turned brighter. “Meet me for lunch? I don’t have any catering events today, or even tomorrow that I would have to start cooking for. So I’m yours all day, if you want.”
    Elliot shook his head on the pillow. “Got to check in with the office later, then go to a couple of contractors and start getting bids.” He heard a disappointed sigh. “Dinner, maybe?”
    Sheri’s voice brightened again. “That sounds great. I’ll cook. Oh, and maybe I’ll see if Malcolm can come over here and you can meet him. You have some stuff in common with him actually. You two should get along well.”
    Elliot smiled sleepily. “What? We’re both suave, debonair, sophisticated?”
    “No, you both have gigantic sticks up your a—”
    “Good-bye, Cher.”
    She laughed. “See you at seven.”
     
     
    ELLIOT ARRIVED at Sheri’s at exactly seven o’clock. He walked up the stone-encrusted path to the front door of a normal-looking 1950s-style cottage home. How someone like Sheri could live in an ordinary house, Elliot never could understand.
    He had no idea what they were going to have for dinner, but knowing Sheri, it would either be raw or some hitherto inedible part of some weird animal. One time she threatened to serve him monkey brains. Thank God he’d talked her out of that one. Whatever they were having tonight would have to go well with red wine, because that was what Elliot had brought.
    Elliot knew the door was unlocked, so he walked in, through the living room, and into the kitchen. Sheri surprised him. They were having normal steak. At least, he thought it was normal steak. She was putting the plates on the table as Elliot crossed the kitchen and kissed her cheek.
    “This is beef?” Elliot asked as he sat beside Sheri and across the table from an older African-American man with a neatly groomed goatee, whom he assumed to be Malcolm. “Right?”
    Sheri gave him a sly smile. “Maybe.”
    Malcolm grinned and offered Elliot his hand. “I’m Malcolm, and I brought the meat to be grilled. It’s beef.”
    Elliot smiled, nodded to Malcolm, and addressed Sheri. “I like this guy already.”
    Sheri smacked Elliot. “Ah, shut up.” Then she giggled.
    Elliot dug into his now-confirmed beef steak. “So, Malcolm,