Harry turned to leave. “Have at it, Jack. There is no way in hell I am taking off Lizzie Fox’s clothes.”

“No, no, no, it doesn’t work that way, Harry. We gotta do it. Now come on and help me.”

“NO!”

“C’mon,” Jack wheedled. “We can close our eyes and do it. I won’t tell Yoko, and you agree not to tell Nikki. Deal?”

“When Lizzie wakes up and wants to know who undressed her, what are you going to tell her?” Harry demanded.

“The unvarnished truth. We did it together and kept our eyes closed.”

“I hate you, Jack,” Harry seethed, as Jack rolled Lizzie over so he could pull down the covers.

“Yeah, yeah, and I love you too. Okay, on the count of three, you work her skirt and . . . any anything else. I’ll do the . . . top. I think we should leave the . . . the fancy stuff on her. We’re just taking off the top layer. Okay?”

Four hands fumbled and fluttered as both men squeezed their eyes shut, their breathing ragged and raspy as they stripped Lizzie of her outer garments.

“Done! We did it! Good job, Harry! Look at me, I’m shaking. You look kind of funny, Harry. Are you okay? See, see, you’re shaking too.”

“I’m going to kill you, but first I am going to make you suffer, you . . . you . . .”

“Shhh,” Jack said. “Lizzie is mumbling something. Listen.”

“What’s she saying?” Harry asked, forgetting for the moment that he was going to kill Jack.

“Sounds like she’s saying something about chicken soup. Noodles. That must mean she wants chicken soup with noodles when she wakes up. Chicken soup always makes things better. Do you know how to make chicken soup, Harry, because I sure don’t,” Jack fretted, his face twisted in panic.

Harry clenched his teeth and stared at Jack. “I know how to make tea.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that, Harry. I can grill, that’s it. Maybe we should call Charles and ask him how to make it. We don’t want Lizzie to be disappointed when she wakes up, and there’s no chicken soup. Do we?”

Harry gave Jack his evil eye and refused to comment.

“I have an idea. We could go to some Chinese restaurant and get some of that soup they put wontons in. Throw in some veggies and voilà, chicken soup. Do you think that would pass muster?”

“What about the noodles?” Harry asked, intrigued at the lengths Jack was willing to go for Lizzie. Not that he himself wouldn’t, it was just that he didn’t know how to cook. Nor did he want to learn. Making tea was taxing enough.

“Ah, now that might pose a problem,” Jack said thoughtfully. “Maybe when you go to the Dip Sing, you can ask them to make you some noodles.” Seeing the murderous look on Harry’s face, Jack hastened to add, “Or I can go. It’s just out on the main drag, I saw the sign when I turned off to come down Lizzie’s street. I think we should get that out of the way first in case Lizzie wakes up sooner rather than later.”