"That's mighty kind of him to say."
"I get the impression he's not the kind of guy who hands out compliments often.”
I laughed. "No. Not at all. The sheriff is a straight shooter. No bullshit.”
"That's what I figured.”
We stared at each other for a moment in the moonlight. Madelyn was easy to look at. Easy to talk to as well.
"I should apologize to you,” she said.
"What for?”
"At a fashion show. I was wrong, you were right. I was rude about it. You were in the right seat.”
I smiled. "It's all water under the bridge. Least of our concerns now.”
"I wasn't going to go. Then at the last minute, I thought, what the hell? I know Giovanni was trying to get me and my brother in the same room. He knew us both back when we got along. He tried to tell me the invitation was Sebastian's idea, but that was just bullshit. It's okay. Extending the olive branch is not Sebastian's style.” She lost herself and thought for a moment. "How's Ava doing?”
"I don't know.”
Madelyn frowned. "The poor girl. He’s gonna leave her. Sticking around when things get tough is not Sebastian’s style either. Lord knows he wasn’t there for me when our parents died.”
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged. "It's part of life. Isn’t it?”
“A painful part.”
“You pack your own chute. It's a single-player game. You can't count on anybody.”
"That’s kind of a lonely way to go through life, don't you think?”
"All I can do is go by past experience. And experience tells me I am the only person I can count on.”
“Well, you can count on me and JD.”
Madelyn gave me a cautious look. “You know, most people talk a good game, but when you say it, I believe it.” She lifted her wine to toast. “To people you can count on.”
We clinked glasses and sipped our beverages.
Her full lips wrapped around the glass and left a stain of lip gloss. Madelyn looked at me with sparkly eyes, heady with a few glasses of wine.
The night was shaping up to be a nice evening and full of possibilities.
"So tell me, is there a Mrs. Deputy, or are you married to the job?”
I laughed. "I guess I'm married to the job.”
"Must be hard trying to hold down a relationship—late nights, odd hours, people constantly shooting at you, always looking over your shoulder.”
"That is a factor.”
“I guess the job doesn’t get jealous when you have a mistress,” she asked with more than a little interest.
“I wouldn’t know. I took a vow of celibacy.” I tried to keep a straight face.
Her skeptical eyes narrowed. “I call BS.”
