Zade stood with a smile on his face when Zarek entered.
"Welcome. We've met once earlier today—I hope you haven't forgotten me so easily."
Zarek blinked as though he didn't recognize the man, looking down at Zade's outstretched hand for a moment. But then he laughed and took it.
"Don't joke around, old man. How could I forget the only suit I've seen in ages?"
"Old man?" Zade looked offended. "You kids get more brash every generation."
"Sounds like exactly what an old man would say. So, what did you call me for today? Who're they? The friends you were talking about?"
Zade looked back over his shoulder. "Well, they are friends. But they aren't the friends I was talking about before."
"Gotcha. And who's that?"
"Him? My older brother. Feel free to ignore him—he never has anything smart to say."
Zarek leaned to the side to look past Zade and gave Marx a peace sign.
Marx smiled and shook his head, but didn't say much in reply.
"You didn't answer my other question, though. Why—?"
