Page 28 of Ghostly

The gathered company laughed. “It’s a good thing you came here, Gabriel,” Jason said. “We might need some legal advice.” He gently elbowed Mark in the ribs.

Gabriel, who’d been enjoying the laid-back attitude of the past few minutes—who knew dinners could be like this?—nearly got propelled out of the sofa. “What?”

“Well, you are a lawyer, aren’t you? Or something legal?” Jason said it as simply as declaring the weather forecast. “The way you talk sometimes.In the store with Dina. And you were saying something about contracts earlier.”

Ida gasped. “He Sherlock Holmes’d you.”

“I… uh…”

“Oh, you’re a lawyer?” Janice clutched her purse. “How fancy. Hear that, Dina? We’ve got a lawyer in town now.”

“We already have one,” Marge said.

“Who, old Trent? You know he spends half of his working day asleep,” Janice returned.

“I’m afraid I don’t currently practice.” Gabriel tried to distract himself by twirling a glass of wine between his fingers.

“How so?” Dina asked.

“For god’s sake, lay off on the inquisition,” Jason said.

“I hardly see how that’s inquisition. I asked one question. Besides, you started it.”

“It’s really no—” Gabriel started.

“I was just curious, but clearly he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Jason said.

“Oh, what happened?” Marge asked. “Something bad?”

“Why else would anyone come here,” Mark murmured.

“Oh, boy.” Ida’s gaze jumped from one neighbor to the other. “They’re doing it again.”

“Nothing bad happened,” Gabriel said out loud, not that it mattered to the others.

“You know, you can always leave,” Dina said to the two men.

“I bet you’d love that,” Jason bit off. “Too bad you sabotaged my chances.”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, really?” Jason crossed his arms over his chest.

“And don’t pretend you’re a saint, either. As if I don’t know what you call us behind our backs. The Schuyler Sisters and the like.”

“So?” Jason said. “Everyone has nicknames!”

“But not ones saying we’re old crones.”

“Ladies,” Gabriel tried again, “and gentlemen, if you would only—”

“Strutting around town in those tight pants, which is entirely indecent…” Marge said.

“The Schuyler Sisters.” Ida jumped. “Gabriel, the Schuyler Sisters!”

“What?” Gabriel switched between her and his arguing party, unsure where to start putting out this particular fire.

“It’s from the musical. Hamilton. He doesn’t mean it as an insult.”