Hugo glances at his watch. "You have a massage at ten, right?"
I squint at him, confused. "Yes, but how?—"
"Yesterday," he answers. "When I offered to escort you from town, and you told me the joke was on me because you have a massage at ten and a facial at two."
A faint smile ghosts my lips. "Offered to escort me from town? That's a nice way of sayingdon't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you."
Hugo scrunches his eyes like he's in pain. "Sorry about that. I default to asshole when I think my or my family's peace is being threatened."
"Understandable."
The server, Annie, stops by with the check. Hugo snatches it up, motioning with two fingers for Annie to come closer to him. She bends slightly at the waist, her eyes flickering over to me when Hugo whispers something in her ear.
"You got it," she says, sending me a second look of interest before leaving to take care of her other tables.
"What did you say to her?"
"That I was taking care of your check today."
My eyes narrow at him. "That's it?"
He nods solemnly.
"Then what was with the cloak and dagger?"
He shrugs, nonchalant. "That's between me and Annie."
"Thank you for breakfast," I say, letting it drop because I'm learning Hugo can be strong-willed.
I stand from the table, winding my purse around my body. Hugo steps aside, motioning for me to go first. He waves at a few people on our way through the restaurant, and I don't miss their curious looks. I've heard about small towns being nosy, but I didn't stop to think about what that really means. The way people are in your business, always knowing things.
Might there be some people here who know details that are important to the day Hugo's dad died? People who were watching, listening, keeping tabs on others, not realizing the significance of a seemingly unimportant detail?
It doesn't seem like the right time to bring it up to Hugo. I've only just begun to make an intro with him, and still the connection is tenuous. Easy does it.
"I'll drive you to Sagewood," Hugo says as we spill out into the bright Saturday morning.
People mill about, waiting for shops to open, holdingwhite paper coffee cups with the words Sweet Nothings printed on the side.
"It's not in walking distance?" Another thing I've always heard about small towns, everything is within walking distance.
"Depends on how froggy you're feeling." Hugo motions with his head for me to follow him down the sidewalk.
"Froggy?"
"It's something my friend Penn says. He's a former SEAL."
"Gotcha."
Hugo steps off the curb beside a low-slung, obviously expensive bright red car. He reaches for the passenger door, opening it and gesturing for me to get in.
"Yesterday you were driving a truck."
"That's a mill truck. This is my car."
I step around Hugo, into the open space of the car door. He watches me over the doorframe. Pausing, I press a hand to my hip and squint up at him. "Are you having some sort of midlife crisis?"
He grunts a laugh. "No. Why?"
