I get, on some level, why you talked to your mom about it and not me, but you didn’t, so it smacks me in the face, and I’ve got about thirty seconds to adjust before I grill Duncan.” “You . . . you grilled Duncan?” “It’s my fucking job, Fallon. My goddamn job.” “Yes.” Touched, amused, a little horrified, she got an apple out of the bin, carefully cut it in half for Laoch and Grace. “It is. How’d he do?” “He did all right,” Simon replied. “He’s not an asshole.” “Good to know.”
