I try not to stare at his eyepatch, or the jagged scar that slices down the right side of his face.
“Sorry,” I say, heat rising to my cheeks. “Didn’t see you there.”
“Don’t stop on my account. We all need to curse at the sky sometimes, don’t we?”
A small laugh escapes me. “Try every day.”
“That bad?” He wolf-whistles. “Sounds like a luxury condo won’t be the solution to your problems, then.”
“I mean, it wouldn’t make them worse.”
“Fair point.” He settles on my left, downwind, and pulls out a cigarette. “Mind if I smoke?”
“Honestly? I wish I could join you.”
“There’s more where this one came from.”
I shake my head and point at my belly. “Can’t. Gotta keep it together organically for five more months.”
His eyes widen a fraction. “Congratulations. Never would’ve guessed.”
“It’s early.” I shrug. “No need to break out the maternity dresses just yet.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Judging by the appetite, I’m guessing piranha.”
The man’s lips curl faintly. “A baby shark, then.”
“Please don’t say that. I’ll never get the song out of my head.”
There’s something oddly familiar in him, even though I could swear I’ve never seen him before. His sleek dark suit, his scruff, the whiff of woodsy cologne?—
No. Stop thinking about him. He’s not yours anymore.
Chances are, he never was.
“My bad.” He takes a slow drag. The smoke lingers in the air for a second, curly and snake-shaped, before being carried away by the breeze. “Damn. Now, it’s stuck in my head, too.”
“Condolences. It’s never going away.”
“I always thought the lyrics were odd.” He taps his cigarette, letting the ash scatter below. “There’s the baby shark, and then mommy, daddy, the grandparents. But no siblings.”
“I’m sorry, you want it to belonger?”
“Fuck no.” He tosses the stub away. It lands somewhere on the party grounds, perhaps in some rich guy’s champagne. I get the feeling that, whoever this guy is, he doesn’t hold much love for the crowd gathered here today. “But it’s strange, isn’t it? Lots of kids have siblings. A sister shark, a brother shark.”
“I guess the meter does make it pretty easy to add them in.”
“Will you? Add it in?” His dirty brown gaze fixes on mine. “For little Eli?”
My breathing stops.
I stare at the man next to me. His face hasn’t changed, not one bit, but his single eye is glinting with malice.
I inch away from him. “I didn’t tell you about Eli.”
“You didn’t have to, Euphemia. I know all about him.”
