Chapter 5“You’re almost on time,” Clay said as he let Quint into the loft.
“And I brought dinner.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know, but I was hungry. I drove past a restaurant I like, and—” Quint started to hand Clay the bags, then veered away, walking to the dining area on the far side of the living room. “Plates, silverware?”
“I have some,” Clay replied, going to the kitchen to get them.
“Figured. Unless you’re a real caveman.”
Clay broke into a grin. “I’m bad, but not that bad.”
Dinner turned out to be Chinese, with a variety of selections that the two men shared equally. Clay found some beer in the refrigerator, much to his admitted surprise, which topped off the meal.
Their talk was minimal as they ate. Confined mostly to “Pass the…” or “This is good.”
When they were finished,
