Before I can utter a word, she passes a credit card across the bar.
I have umpteen messages from my sister making my phone vibrate endlessly because I failed to contribute to or RSVP for the massive birthday bash she’s throwing for my ex-wife in Antigua next month.
My parents regularly request that I lend—and I do meanlendwithoutrepayment—them money becauseyou owe us after the top-notch education we gave you at boarding school all of those years. You know that’s why our part of the family trust fund ran dry.
My business partner just took five years’ worth of my research and sold it to his buddy’s start-up company becauseyou don’t need the money, Grey.Do somebody a favor for once.
For once.
For once.
Fuck that.
So someone else picking up my tab purely for the purpose of doing a good deed for someone else?
This is refreshing.
And paranoia-making.
Is she playing me? Doessheknow whoIam?
Seems unlikely.
None of my siblings or their children were quick or smart enough to become celebrities for being rich, and the trust fund from the old Cartwright apple farm empire dried up before any of them thought to try it. We’re obscure in the world of old rich families. Plus, we’re not actually rich anymore.
Not as a family.
As for me personally, the only people who care who I am and where I made my own small fortune are in apiology or the food packaging industry. Which is exactly how I like it.
“No arguing,” the redhead says when she catches me watching her while the bartender runs her card. “I have too many more good deeds to do today.”
Kombucha forgotten. I like this mystery better.
Dangerous spot, to like the mystery of a woman. The last time, it ended with a hellacious divorce that most of my family still hasn’t forgiven me for.
“How’s a woman like you come to dabble in ruining reputations?” I ask.
She squeezes her eyes shut. “You don’t want that story.”
“Seems like something awifewould share.” Not that mine ever did. I found out what she’d been doing onlineafterour separation.
The redhead laughs, but it’s a sad laugh.
Did I imagine the sparkle?
“I really thought that woman would demand to see our rings,” she says.
“I’m allergic to anything on my fingers, and yours is being upgraded.”
“Quick work making a cover story. But the minute you sayallergic to anything on my fingers, every woman in a ten-state radius will know you’re allergic tocommitment.”
“We’re in Hawaii. No state radii.”
“It extends beyond the ocean and wraps back around the other side of the world. Also, did you just sayradii? That’s adorable. Mathematician?”
“Sure. Let’s go with that.”
“It’s a deal, Mr. Mathematician.”
