If only I could get my eyeballs to believe that.
Sabbatical, Stella. Sabbatical.
I shook some sense back into myself in time to make out what Malone was saying: “Huh. I don’t remember signing up for that, but if you’ll give me a minute, I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t cuss them out or slam the door in their faces.
Okay then. On to plan D, which I really didn’t think we’d get to.
I grabbed my camera bag as well as a backpack that contained snacks and water. I’d pick up coffee on the way.
Implementing plan D didn’t bother me; having misread the psychology of my target did.
Based on Trista’s description of the one time she’d tried to talk him into delivering gifts to Christmas Angels, I thought for sure I’d come up with a perfect combination to incite his anger: manual labor, helping others, waking him up just as he would’ve been hitting his REM sleep. The little hairs on the back of my neck stood up, a sure sign that something was off.
Malone emerged in sweatpants and an impossibly tight T-shirt and followed the Habitat volunteers. A laugh echoed over the parking lot before a van door slammed shut.
Maybe coffee and some careful observation would give me the answers I sought.
Coffee helped, but surveillance was tricky. The Habitat for Humanity build site sat among a row of small homes a few streets over from the Marietta cemetery. Finding a place to park where I could see the workers but not be seen was a challenge but nothing I couldn’t handle.
I kept Malone in the sights of my high-powered lens.
I soon felt like a Peeping Thomasina once again. I was not taking revenge photos. Nay, nay. These were thirst-trap snapshots.
So far I’d observed Malone lift heavy objects, joke with his fellow workers, and listen intently to the construction site leader, who happened to be a woman. With his neatly trimmed beard and lopsided smile, he was my aesthetic.
Salcedo’s words haunted me:The universe is going to plop the perfect person right in front of you and dare you to break the promise you made to yourself.
Honestly, it wouldn’t be the first promise to myself I’d broken.
Besides, I wasn’t looking for forever. He could be Mr. Perfect-for-Right-Now.
No.
He is a cheater. You are on the rebound. Absolutely not.
I revisited my new mantra.
Slow inhale:I may not be able to touch ...
Slow exhale:but I can most certainly look.
Sadly, my mantra didn’t help much.
He had to have an angle, because he was acting nothing like the man Trista had described, and she was legit. I’d always prided myself on my bullshit detector, and she’d passed muster.
But my bullshit detector had missed Ken, now hadn’t it?
With a strangled growl of frustration, I put away my camera. I needed to observe this man up close. Time to implement plan E, which I was already dressed to do—all that remained was pulling my hair into a ponytail and putting on a cap and sunblock.
As I approached the worksite, Malone paused in his work to study me. I couldn’t see his eyes behind those mirrored glasses, but a twitch of his lopsided smile suggested he was happy to see me. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”
“From across the breezeway.”
His smile bloomed into a grin. “That’s it. You were looking for a ‘Man in Finance,’ if I recall.”
“And, if memory serves, you really know how to wear a suit.”
