Excerpt: untitled as of yet

“He says we can bring you up tonight. If you’re ready?”

“Up?”

“Yeah. He lives in Connecticut.”

“Oh. How will we get up there?”

“He’s sending a car.”

That was a surprise. Obviously the man had money if he could send a car, rather than coming himself to pick them up. Stan didn’t seem to pleased, and after Morgan agreed, he pulled Izzy into the kitchen, where they whispered at each other furiously. Something was up. Morgan just wasn’t sure what.

Giving them their privacy, Morgan packed his bag. He wasn’t sure if he’d be coming back or not, so it was best to take everything with him. Especially since he wouldn’t be in town.

Stan frowned when they emerged from the kitchen, glaring at his bag as though it had insulted him, then turned away. Obviously, he wasn’t happy about this. Whatever was going on.

“When will the car be here?”

Izzy looked at him, a bit startled, as though she’d forgotten he was there. “Oh…he said it should be here around noon.” She glanced at her watch. “So…ten minutes.”

“Right. Did he say what sort of job this will be?”

She looked at him for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m sure he’ll give you all the details when you meet with him.”

“All right.”

“I still don’t see why you need a job,” Stan said, glowering at both of them now. “You can stay here with me.” Stan had tried to get Morgan back into his bed a few times since their supper with Izzy, but Morgan wasn’t interested. It had upset Stan a great deal.

“I need to get back home. Talk to Geoffrey. Straighten things out. Before it’s too late.” It was a partial truth, but all that Stan needed to know.

Stan sighed loudly. “Fine.” He glowered at Izzy now, who rolled her eyes at him.

“Oh, grow up.” She turned away and glanced out the window. “I think I see the car. Come on. Let’s go down.”

The car was black, but it wasn’t a limo. Morgan wasn’t a big car person, but he knew a little. Enough to be impressed. This one was one of those old-fashioned luxury models rich families tended to keep around. The seats a rich suede that felt like velvet, and the dash was all in faux wood, rather than the molded plastic they tended to have in everything nowadays. It was a bit cramped in the back, so Stan took the front seat with the driver, then turned and began his usual babbling discourse he kept up when the world was otherwise too silent around him.

He kept that up the entire trip, with only a half dozen words or grunts from either Morgan or Izzy to keep him going. By the time they pulled into the curving drive of the grey-stone mansion they were going to, Morgan was about ready to throw Stan from the car. Whether it had stopped moving or not.