He was sitting at an ocean side restaurant deck, his feet on the bottom rail, a beer in one hand when his phone rang. With his arm in a sling he had to put down the beer to get to his phone. "Yeah?"

"Where are you?"

Eliot looked at the menu. "The Surfside Cafe in Portside."

"Stay there. I'm on my way to you."

"Okay."

"How long has it been going on?"

"Say what?"

"How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you and my wife been…"

"Ex-wife."

Nate took a deep breath. "How long have you and Maggie been talking on the phone?"

Eliot cradled the phone against his shoulder so he could take a long pull on his beer. "I'm sure you've had Hardison pull my phone records, so I'd guess you know better than me."

"Months. You've been talking to my wife…"

"Ex-wife."

Nate kept on like he hadn't heard, "Maggie for nearly two months."

"Sounds about right."

"Care to tell me what's going on?"

"Hang on a second." Eliot put the phone on mute and set it on the table. He looked up at the waitress and smiled. "Hi, darlin'. I'll take the seafood sampler, and my friend will take the surf and turf. Bring me another beer and him a Glenlivit when the meal comes."

"Sure. Dressing for your salad?"

"You have a nice house?"

"We have a strawberry balsamic."

"Sounds great."

He watched her walk away for a moment. The shook himself and picked up the phone again. "Where were we?"

"You want to tell me what that was?"

"No."

"Were you talking to Maggie?"

"No!" Eliot cradled his phone against his shoulder again, so he could rub his eyes. He dug out his sunglasses and dropped the phone. When he picked it up again, Nate was talking.

"…me what you two were talking about?"

Eliot sighed. "Nothing much; art, food, books, stuff like that."

"And you didn't feel the need to tell me?" Nate's anger was winding down. It was more like annoyance and curiosity.

"It just never came up in conversation."

"Seriously?"

"Sure. Eliot, take out these three guard, oh, and then jump on a plane for Ecuador. Sure, Nate, and by the way, your ex and I like to talk on the phone."

The sarcasm wasn't lost on Nate, despite the weak connection. "Okay, okay. But there were times, between jobs."

"Honestly Nate. I just didn't know how to bring it up."

"Are you two…"

"No! We're just friends. I think."

"You think?"

"I don't know. She calls sometimes."

"Why? Why does she call you?"

Eliot blew out a breath. "Honestly, I'm not sure."

"And you talk about art?"

"Yeah, sometimes."

"Why would she call you and not me?"

"You should ask her."

"I'm asking you."

"She says," he paused and took another sip of his beer, "she says I'm a good listener."

"And I'm not."

Eliot shook his head. "I'm not saying that!"

"So?"

"I wish you'd talk to her."

"She's my ex, Eliot, I can't talk to her."

"She says that you'd want to talk about technique and the best way spot the forgery and stuff and she just wanted somebody that listened." There was a silence long enough that Eliot checked the connection to see if he'd been dropped. "Nate?"

"Yeah."

"I just, you know."

"Yeah, well, I want you to stop."

"No."

"I thought you were my friend."

"I am, but I just can't."

"Why?"

"Cuz she's my friend, too, and she's the first friend I ever had that never asked me for anything."

"Okay."

"We just talk, Nate. It's nothing serious." There was another long silence. "Nate?"

"Yeah."

Eliot didn't like the defeated tone in Nate's voice. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't call her."

"Yeah, okay, Eliot, I'm hanging up."

"Okay."

Eliot finished off his beer and sat staring out at the waves. Nate slid into the chair next to him. "You can't, just, not take her calls?"

Eliot smiled. "No. What if she calls some time and really needs us."

"Yeah, I guess."

Just then the waitress brought over their order.

"You ordered for me?"

"Yeah, well, I thought maybe you'd join me. And besides…"

Nate waited.

"I need someone to drive me home." Eliot washed his pain pill down with the fresh beer.

"Yeah, okay. Seriously? My wife?"

Eliot shrugged. "She calls me, man."

"I know, but still." Nate took a sip of the Glenlivit and shrugged.

Eliot picked up his beer. "Women. They're all wonderful, but I'll never understand 'em."

"I can drink to that."