“So it’s a yes?”
“It’s a no.” I sigh, exaggerating the sound and emptying my lungs until my shoulders slump. “I was just finishing up, since I have an early meeting for work.”
His smile drops into a pout. “That’s too bad.”
“It really is. But—” I unlock my phone and offer it his way. I sure freakin’ hope Soph is listening andnottexting right now. It would be awkward if he saw his own name move across the top of the screen. “Maybe you could give me your number?”
I make a show of scanning his left hand for a wedding ring.
Ironically, Iknowthe prick is married. But his lack of a ring allows me to broaden my smile. “I haven’t lived in Copeland for very long, and the people I work with are…” I lean a little closer, snickering, “Total bores.”
“It would be my honor to show you around sometime.” Hetap-tap-tapsat my screen, entering his name and number, and before I can think to stop him, he dials so he has mine, too.Soph better fix that!“I’ll call you. Maybe this afternoon or something?” He offers my phone back. “If you’re available…”
“Ya know what?” I beam, bright and a little flirty. “I mightbe. We’ll touch base later, and if I’m able to shuffle a few things around, maybe you could… I dunno…” I shyly tuck a loose lock of hair behind my ear. “Ask me out to dinner or something?”
“You can expect my call.” He extends his hand into the space between us. “Mihalis.”
“Ohh… a derivative of Michael!”I accept his hand and shake.But not too firm. Some men don’t like that.“A strong name, indeed.”
“And you are?”
“A goof,” I giggle. “And awkward at the best of times. I’m sorry. My name is Hillary. Hillary Harrison.”
Poor, poor unhappy Mr. Harrison bristles behind me.
“Hillary.” Mihalis brings my knuckles to his lips. “I look forward to our afternoon together. I hope you manage to shuffle whatever it is you need to shuffle to ensure we meet again.” Lowering our hands, he glances past me and glowers. “It’s kinda weird you’re still here, dude.”
I peek over my shoulder and smirk. “You can go, sir. I appreciate you stopping to help me, though.”
“Mm.” Harrison flattens his lips, his eyes firing with potent, bottled-up rage. But at least he starts walking, circling me and mydate, and continues along the path lining the bay. Though he only goes twenty feet before stepping left.
He’s a bear trap, and I’m about to have a sore foot.
Worse, he takes out his phone.Snitch.
“I really must go, Mihalis. But it’s been a long time since someone genuinely nice came along, helping a stranger for the sake of helping.” I press my hand to his arm and pat-pat-pat. “I’ve had a rough week. Like,” I choke on a laugh, a genuine onethis time. “Areallyrough week. You’ve given me the first true reason to smile since Tuesday.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He steps around me and stares longingly at my lips. Like this rat bastard thinks I would allow him to touch them.Ever. “I’ll see you soon, Hillary.”
“You sure will.” I twirl a lock of hair around my finger andblush, blush, blush. “Soon.”
I turn on my heels and continue along the path, unlocking my phone and using the reverse camera to secretly watch him go. The moment I pass Harrison’s lame hiding place, I roll my eyes and go back to texting Soph. “You would’ve been terrible at playing hide-and-seek.”
“That’s okay. You’re a terrible flirt in general.” He folds into step on my left, his shoulder brushing mine, and his eyes rudely going to my phone screen.
I tilt it away, robbing him of the chance to read my words.
“That man is old enough to be your father, Chief Mayet, and if he wasn’t so blinded by his lust for amuchyounger woman, he would’ve noticed the contempt in your eyes.” He grabs my arm and yanks me off one path and onto another, except now, we’re heading toward the street. “Is Detective Malone aware you hit on men on Friday mornings at the bay?”
“Oh, I’m sure he is.” I tear myself from his grasp and shoot accusatory eyes toward the phone gripped in his hand. “I’m sure Detective Malone knows every time I eat. Sleep. Breathe. Do you know what’s worse than a bad flirt, Mr. Harrison?”
He digs his hands into his pockets and produces a set of keys, beeping the shiny black SUV open as we approach.
“A snitch,” I bite out. “A dirty rotten snitch is worse. It’s ironic you would lower yourself to such disrepute, consideringMr. Malone sent me away, which means he probably doesn’t need, nor want, a play-by-play of my day.”
“Until I’m ordered otherwise, I’ll continue my running tally of everything you get up to.” He grabs me again, more comfortable than he was just two days ago, and steers me toward the car. “I know who that man was, by the way. MihalisSalonen is on the list of men you have no business going anywhere near.”
“It’s cute you think you get to dictate where I go and with whom I associate.” I climb into the back seat, since my task is, in fact, complete, and, checking my texts, I find a couple from Soph.
