“He’s not bad, that engineer of yours,” Dave said, straightening from his clipboard. “Smart, fast, keeps his head on even when things get messy, doesn’t talk just to hear himself. I’d keep him around if I were you.”
“Yeah.” I forced on a smile and nodded instead of shouting,Shut up, Dave!
Jesus. I needed to get a grip.
Or at least get laid.
Or maybe not. That was the whole damn problem.
“HANGING IN THERE?”Rio texted in the late afternoon, just as I’d decided to call it a day. I stopped by reception to make sure Lani had everything she needed for the evening shift, then figured I’d walk back to my cottage, where a long shower might help me decide when to head to Sebastian’s cabin.
Because I had to go to him. Get it out of my system before I drove myself crazier.
“Aha,”I texted back.
“Saving on words? Not a good sign. Owen and I are taking Walter to an Italian place. Join us. Might do you good.”
“Be around a lovey-dovey couple? Walter and I will rip you a new one.”Owen’s grumpy grandfather was one of my favorite people.
Rio sent back a laughing emoji.“Girls’ night out coming up. No excuses then.”
I sent a thumbs-up.
Just as I stepped outside, my phone dinged again.
“You never called. Can I swing by tonight, goddess?”
I didn’t recognize the number, but the over-the-top superlative was enough to make me gag. Inflated praise was an immediate turn-off. Only when I scrolled up to that number’s previous message I realized it was Craig-Kirk. I nearly shuddered as I blocked him—like scrubbing off a mistake I no longer understood.
I was crossing the lawn when my phone pinged yet again.
“Drove to Blueshore. Surprise dinner with the parents. Couldn’t say no. Got the biddings now. Emailing them to you.”My goddamn heart skipped a beat just at the sight of his name.
“Great. We can talk them over when you’re back.”
“Taking my dad to a classic car show in Wayford after. Could be a late one.”
Another thumbs up from me. This time, it felt as if my fingers couldn’t decide whether to offer a quiet goodbye or typePlease come back.
26
Sebastian
ON THE NINETY-MINUTEride back from Wayford, my father blabbered endlessly about the cars we’d seen. A first-rate sign that he was nervous.
It was close to midnight.
“That was the friend from work whose daughter you wanted me to meet, right?” I asked when he finally paused to draw breath.
“Yes. Funny running into him there. Saw him today at the office, and he didn’t say a word about him going to the car show, too. And I had that extra ticket I could have given him.”
I turned my head and gave him a look that saidWho do you think you’re kidding?
“No, really.”
“Okay, Dad.” I sighed, dragging it out.
“He’s a real nice guy. But I’m glad you ended up using the ticket.”
