Page 6 of Full Contact

“No. Peaches and I happened to shop at the same place.”

He grinned. “I mean, did you buy the tie to match her?”

“Other way around. The first harness was too yellow.”

“You sent it back?”

“Of course. I’d given them a swatch.”

He looked at me for a second, then nodded. “Right.”

“Ask him about the backup harness,” Varga said.

“It was a wedding. Things spill.”

Niko lifted his drink toward me from the steps.

“The internet likes your Mark, too,” Varga added.

“He’s the team’s Mark.”

“That was quick.”

“His salary doesn’t come out of my account.”

“He’s very handsome in that video,” Cross’s wife said.

I took a bite of brisket. “He’d be pleased to hear you say that.”

“You could tell him.”

“I remember when Varga was the handsome one in a Peaches photo,” I said. “How quickly they forget.”

“They haven’t forgotten. It was last Christmas break,” Varga said.

Rook closed the smoker. “He got it framed.”

Varga turned. “We have other photographs in frames.”

I sat back and let them argue. Cross’s wife smiled at me over her glass, but she didn’t say more about Mark.

Rafe pulled a chair over and asked about an offseason drill I’d shown him.

“How many sets do you do?”

“Three.”

“Every time?”

“Unless something hurts. Why?”

“I’ve been doing five,” Rafe said.

“Were the last two any good?”

He thought about it. “Not particularly.”

“Try three.”