“Please. Let me make you pretty.” “I’m already pretty. I’m fucking stupendous.” I sigh. “Oh, if only you could use suppositories to—” “To cure my malignant narcissism?” How does he always know? “Listen—I just want to make you presentable. You said that you don’t have time to go get a haircut, but I’m already in your house, and you’re my live-in nanny. Think of the ease.” “Has anyone told you that you’re kind of a nuisance, killer?” “A guy. Once or ten times.” I grin. “But I could be so much worse.” “I’ll take it as a threat.”
