“I thought you were a sculptor—”
“—who is caring for you out of the goodness of my heart. You owe me.”
“Take my watch.” He gestured to it.
“Stunningly, we do not have a pawn broker on Islehaven, so I have no use for it.” She scrambled up, eyes narrow. “You’re . . . you’re . . .”
“Yes?”
“Ungrateful.”
“I’m incredibly grateful.”
“Ungratefulanduntrustworthy.” She lifted the tray.
Luckily, he was still holding the coffee, or she’d have taken that, too.
As she was exiting, he spoke. “Could you help me put on my windbreaker? Going shirtless is starting to make me cold.”
She paused and eyed him over her shoulder. “To my way of thinking, if you can feed yourself, then you can put on your own windbreaker.”
He’d made her mad. Until now he hadn’t realized the edgy artist was so passionate. He wasn’t sorry for what he’d done. But he did respect her more for her spunk.
Once again, she moved to leave.
“Remy Reed?”
She stilled.
“When’s my doctor’s appointment?” he asked. “I need hard drugs.”
“It wasn’t easy to set up a virtual appointment for a man with no name and no insurance. I ended up having to assure the doctor I’d pay in cash. Your appointment is in an hour and a half. When you speak with him, please ask him about one thing in particular.”
“Yes?”
“Ask him if you might have amnesia.” And with that, she was gone.
Remy had been watching for Leigh out the office window. When she saw her beater car pull up that afternoon, she dashed outside.
They met by the front fender. The wind was swirling in such a way that it tossed Remy’s hair around her head.
“How is he?” Leigh asked.
“He’s crafty, that’s what he is. He misled me into handfeeding him his breakfast.”
“Did he?” Leigh cackle-laughed.
“Also,” Remy confided in a scandalized tone, “I think he’swealthy. His watch costs more than eight thousand dollars.”
“Oh, dear,” Leigh said with mock seriousness, “that is terrible news indeed.”
“I amnota fan of him.”
The older woman tried and failed to look sympathetic. Today, Leigh’s plaid flannel was red, her baseball cap battered beige.
“He’s as slippery as an—an eel,” Remy pronounced.
“Have you taken the time yet to notice his resemblance to a fallen angel?”
