“Sure, what’s the problem?” Her friend started to rise. “One of the pins on his codpiece has attached itself to the tablecloth. Maybe you could crawl under the table and set him loose,” she suggested. Chris laughed and paused. “You’re kidding, right?” When she shook her head, he dropped abruptly back into his seat. “Sorry. Codpiece removal is not my department.” “Chris!” Kate said grimly. “Kate,” he responded dryly. “He’s your writer. You crawl under the table and undo him.” “I thought you liked him,” she said accusingly. “Not that much,” Chris shot back. Then he glanced apologetically to
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