Ronald swallowed some air. “It’s your own fault.”

“Because I shouldn’t have trusted you?” Davy nodded as he chewed. “Good point. I won’t do that again. But I want it back, Rabbit. The whole three million. And change.” He took another fry. The diner didn’t look like much, but the cook clearly knew his way around a potato.

“It wasn’t your money. You stole it.” Ronald looked around, apprehensive. “Where’s Simon? Is he here?”

“Simon is in Miami. I will be beating you up on my own. And you know it was my money, you saw me make it playing the same stocks you did-”

“The million you started with wasn’t yours,” Ronald said, and Davy grew still, struck by the three-year-old memory of a beautiful, enraged blonde.

“Clea.” Davy shook his head. “Did you have a good time, Rabbit?”

“See, you don’t even deny it.” Ronald was virtuous in his indignation. “You stole that poor woman’s inheritance from her father-”

Davy sighed and reached for the salt. If Rabbit had embezzled in the heat of Clea, it was going to be difficult to cool him down again. “That woman is not poor, she’s greedy. She inherited a chunk of change from her first husband and the last I heard she’d married some rich old guy in the Bahamas.”

“You stole her money,” Ronald said, sticking to the high ground. “She’s innocent.”

Davy pulled Ronald’s plate over to his side of the booth and reached for the ketchup. “Rabbit, I know she’s a great lay, but not even you could believe that.”

Ronald drew himself up. “You’re talking about the woman I love.”

“Clea is not the kind of woman you love,” Davy said grimly. “She’s the kind of woman you think you love, but then it turns out you were just renting her until somebody else came along with an option to buy.” He dumped ketchup on Ronald’s remaining fries.

“I believe in her,” Ronald said.

“You also believed the tech ride was going to last forever,” Davy said. “Like my daddy always says, if it seems too good to be true-”