Emerie
“Here are a few more messages.”
Drew had just hung up the phone after waving me into his office. I set the bag containing our lunch on his desk and handed him the little slips of paper. He shuffled through them quickly and held one up.
“If this guy calls back—Jonathon Gates—you have my permission to hang up on him.”
“Can I call him a name first?”
Drew looked amused. “What would you call him?”
“That depends. What did he do wrong?”
“He beats his wife.”
“Oh, God. Okay.” I twisted my lips as I thought of a good name for Mr. Gates. “I’d call him a f*****g animal, and then hang up on him.”
Drew chuckled. “You don’t curse like a New Yorker.”
“What do you mean?”
“You pronounce the entire word. F-u-c-k-i-n-g.”
“How should I pronounce it?”
“Fuckin. Leave off the hard g.”
“Fuckin
