“Thanks,” I said, “but I’ll pass.”

I took the little key out of my pocket, set it on the counter, and went to the sink to wash my hands.

“Omigosh,” Glo said. “It’s the Lovey key. I didn’t realize you were the one who bought the sonnets.”

“I didn’t buy sonnets,” I told her. “I found the key. Technically, Carl found it.”

Glo picked the key up and squinted at it. “If you look real close, you can see the L inscribed in the middle of the vines. It’s absolutely ancient, and Nina at Ye Olde Exotica Shoppe said it might be enchanted. It goes with a little book of sonnets. I was saving up money to buy the book from Nina, but someone beat me to it.”

I tied my chef apron around my waist and looked over at Glo. “I didn’t realize you liked poetry.”

“Nina let me read some of the sonnets. They’re so romantic. And some of them are totally bawdy.”

“Nothing better than a bawdy sonnet,” Diesel said, helping himself to a bagel.

I couldn’t imagine Diesel liking a sonnet, bawdy or otherwise. I thought Diesel was more of a limerick kind of guy.

Glo returned the key to the counter. “Nina told me the sonnets were guaranteed to inspire lust, and I thought they might come in handy. You never know when you might want to inspire lust in someone, right?”

I glanced over at Diesel and thought I’d rather have a charm that helped me ignore lust.

“I want to do some research on Gilbert Reedy,” Diesel said to me. “Is it okay if I use your computer?”

“Sure.”

“Who’s Gilbert Reedy?” Glo wanted to know.

“Dead guy,” Diesel said. “Took a swan dive off his fourth-floor balcony this morning.”

I set the dining room table for three. I was serving soup and fresh baked bread for lunch. Oatmeal cookies for dessert.

Diesel ambled in from the living room to join Glo and me, and Carl hopped onto the fourth chair.