She’s wearing a red sundress with little white flowers on it, her hair loose around her shoulders, and she’s holding a cone of cotton candy like she’s auditioning for a Norman Rockwell painting. She looks like summer personified. She looks like every good thing I don’t deserve.
“I like to live dangerously,” I say.
“Clearly. You also volunteered for ring toss duty, which I’m told is a war crime.”
“Who told you that?”
“Grayson. He said you gave away half the prize inventory to children who didn’t actually win.”
“That’s...somewhat accurate.”
“He also said you made a little girl cry.”
“Tears ofjoy. Context matters.”
Jessica laughs, and the sound does something dangerous to my self-control. “I didn’t take you for a softie, Scott.”
“I’m not a softie. I’m generous. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“Absolutely. Softies give things away because they can’t help it. I give things away because...” I trail off, realizing I don’t actually have a good reason for giving a four-year-old a stuffed dolphin she didn’t earn.
“Because you can’t help it?” Jessica supplies, grinning.
“Because it’s good PR.”
“For whom? You don’t own the ring toss booth.”
“For...the general concept of capitalism?”
“That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”
“Thank you. I’m very proud of it.”
We stand there in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the sunset paint the water gold. The band has switched to something slower, and couples are starting to drift toward the beach for the fireworks.
“Grayson said you agreed to help with the author event,” Jessica says finally.
“He guilted me into it.”
“Michelle guiltedmeinto organizing the whole thing, so we’re even.” She takes a bite of cotton candy, somehow managing to look elegant while eating spun sugar. “Thank you, by the way. For volunteering. I know event planning isn’t exactly your idea of a good time.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You seem more like a ‘delegate everything and review the spreadsheet afterward’ type.”
“That’s offensive.”
“But accurate?”
“Somewhat.”
She laughs again. I’m becoming addicted to that sound.
“The reveal event is going to be interesting,” she says, and a vulnerability in her tone makes my chest tight. “All these anonymous pen pals finally meeting face-to-face. Some of them have been writing for months.”
“Sounds...high stakes.”
