Her eyes flash with green fire. “Ha! Mr. Prom King always did have the biggest ego of any boy in school. Glad to see some things don’t change.”
“Some things don’t need changing.”
She rolls her eyes. “Right, of course not. Why improve on perfection?” she asks sarcastically. Kinsley turns to Chester. “Christ on a cracker. I should have ordered alcohol instead of coffee.”
The kitchen door sweeps open. “Speak of the devil!” Chester cackles as a greasy young man in a white apron appears with a steaming mug in hand. “Thanks, Duffy. There you are, Kinsley. I can drop in a splash of something if you decide you want an extra kick.”
“I’m good for now, thanks,” she sighs.
Chester leans over the bar on his flabby, tattooed elbows. “So what happened, kids?” he probes. “I’m invested now. The two of
