“Talk about what?” Harrison asked, cocking his head in a mix of confusion and irritation even though Jack couldn’t see him. ”Your date?”
“No,” Jack replied. “Just … talk. Katelynn wants to know if you’ll still help with the wedding, and -“
The artist sighed. Even over the phone, he knew this wasn’t doing any good. He hated conflict, but if he kept avoiding the real reason he’d called, things were only going to get worse.
“Look, Mr. Drake, I know you’re not fond of me. And I don’t blame you. I’m no one special, and I haven’t exactly been pleasant to you in the past. But I want to clear the air between us, for Katelynn’s sake.”
There, he’d said it.
Harrison frowned. He’d be happy to help with the wedding but spending an evening with Jack Maple promised to be as interesting as watching paint dry.
But then again, the other blue man did have a point. It couldn’t be easy for Katelynn knowing that one of her best friends didn’t like her boyfriend. And Harrison did respect that the man had screwed up his courage and made the call.
“Sure, fine. Where would you like to meet?” he said, trying again to sound casual.
Jack had to stop and seriously think that over. He wanted to choose a place where he’d be comfortable, yes, but it also had to be a place that wouldn’t seem too dull to someone like Harrison.
Finally, he came up with something. “D-do you know Markham’s coffee shop? It’s downtown, a few blocks from the KMCP building.” The artist had discovered it during the time Katelynn was missing, when he’d spent days at a time searching the city for her, going to all her usual haunts.
Jack Maple 