Chapter 63
Except it really wasn’t. Not really-really. Angie was right, goddamn her. He did still carry a torch for Mark. He always would. It was the reason he couldn’t get rid of the earring or the pictures, no matter how cold he’d got or how desperate his financial situation became. If he couldn’t have Mark, at least he still had a part of it, even if that shit did haunt him from its cozy little box in the loft.
“It wouldn’t kill you to have a conversation,” Angie had told him. Maybe she’d been right. God knew if he kept chatting through it in his head, that process might just do him in instead.
So on the morning of December first, with fat grey clouds dumping Claus-worthy snow on the city in amounts that were preposterous for so early in the year, Gerry picked up the phone and placed a call to his former boss.
“Hello?” Manon’s voice was frantic and annoyed.