Nathan waved a hand in surrender. “I’m bone tired. But no headache or any other ache, no fever, no chills, no cough. I do solemnly swear.”

“When you start quoting the Marine oath, I know you’re feeling like hell,” Ben said, but his tone had lost its edge. He flipped open the bag sitting on the coffee table and pulled out a stethoscope. “Just a quick checkup to earn my pay.”

“Forget the pay,” Nathan said. “Have dinner with me. As a friend.”

Ben gave him a sharp look. “It’s past dinnertime. Don’t you have to read fifty reports and answer three thousand e-mails?”

Nathan rubbed a spot between his eyebrows. “I may have lied about the headache.”

“I’ll eat a second dinner because you have an excellent chef.” Ben smacked the stethoscope against Nathan’s chest. “Breathe in.”

Nathan drew in several breaths as his friend moved the stethoscope around. He let Ben take his blood pressure and run a few other basic tests. “Satisfied?” he asked as the doctor folded the stethoscope back into the bag.

“You need rest,” Ben said, picking up his scotch and taking a swallow. “Or you could have a relapse.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Which? The rest or the relapse?” Ben asked.

“Both.” The only way he would stay in bed was if he could lure Chloe into it with him. And he would rest only after he’d made her come at least three times.

Ed walked in with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. “Would you like a drink?” he asked Nathan.

“Something with orange juice,” Ben said. “He needs the vitamin C.”

“A Manhattan.” Nathan paused long enough to annoy Ben before adding, “With an orange juice chaser.”

“You’ll find several varieties of citrus fruit on the tray as well,” Ed said.

“Good man,” Ben said. “I’ll hold him down while you force them down his throat.”

“I should have known you two would conspire against me.” But oddly he found the idea comforting rather than irritating. He picked up a miniature skewer of fruit and bit into a piece of pineapple.

Ben watched him with raised eyebrows. “An alien has taken over Nathan’s body.”

“Do you want me to eat this fruit or not?”

Ben sat down and turned to Ed. “What’s for dinner? I’ve been invited to stay.”

A look of surprise crossed Ed’s face before he launched into the menu. Nathan frowned. “How long has it been since you last ate here?” he asked Ben after Ed left.

Ben looked up at the ceiling in thought. “A year, year and a half,” he concluded.

“You should come more often.”

“I come when I’m invited.”

“You’re my oldest friend. You don’t need an invitation.”

“What? I’m supposed to drop by in the hope that a miracle will happen and you’ll be home and not working?” Ben swirled the scotch in his glass.

It was true that Nathan ate out most nights. “Ed and Janice know my schedule.”

“If you think I’m calling your assistants to find out whether you’re available for dinner, think again.”

“Point taken.” Ed returned with the drinks. Nathan grabbed the Manhattan and took a gulp, savoring the burn in his throat. “I’m glad you were free tonight.”

Ben gave him a crooked smile. “Actually, I need to make a phone call.”

Nathan scowled as he grasped Ben’s meaning. “Don’t cancel something on my account.”

Ben stood and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket before heading for the door. “Sometimes friendship comes first.”

Nathan pushed up out of the chair and roamed over to the wall of windows, staring out at the city that never slept. When had he become such a lousy friend? He’d let himself pretend that the time he spent with Ben for medical and charitable reasons was enough.

Ben walked back into the room, and Nathan turned. “I’m sorry.”

Ben came to an abrupt halt. “Definitely an alien.”

Nathan raised his glass to his friend. “I’ll do better in the future.”

The two men returned to their seats and demolished the hors d’oeuvres before Ed announced dinner. Later, as they sat at the dinner table with coffee and brandy in front of them, Ben said, “I like this new Nathan. He’s like the old Nathan, except he doesn’t constantly badger me to play Space Invaders.”

“Asteroids.”

“A game where one stared at a computer screen and exercised only one’s hands for hours on end,” Ben said, leaning back in his chair. “Although your obsession led to Trainor Electronics, so it wasn’t a total waste of time.”

“My father is getting married Saturday.”

“I’m invited.”

Nathan felt his jaw go tense. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You don’t respond well when I bring up your father.”

“Because you defend him.”

“I try to explain him, so maybe you’ll get your head out of your ass and talk to him.” Ben’s voice was sharp. “He may have pushed you in a direction you didn’t want to go, but at least he didn’t hit you.”

When Ben’s father got drunk, he’d become violent toward his wife and his son. Nathan’s father had intervened on more than one occasion.