When he hit the treadmill, he thought about private detective Nick Charles and was in the middle of wondering whether he should grow a mustache first and then buy a fedora, or vice versa, when his cousin wheeled up next to the treadmill. “You look confused and pissed off like you’re back in trigonometry class,” Brian observed. Nick smacked the Stop button on the treadmill and bent at the waist to catch his breath. “Thinking about hats,” he panted. “You’re a weird dude, you know that, coz?” “So I’ve been told.”
