“No,” Seth said. He was looking up at me with caution. Confusion. Wondering what the fuck I was doing here, probably. But his tone was calm and level when he said, “This isElle.”
“Elle,” the old man repeated, savoring the sound of my name. “Pretty name for a prettygirl.”
“Thank you,” Isaid.
“Looks like I’ve gotta go, Gus,” Seth told the old man, but his eyes were still onme.
“Sometimes the angels come a-callin’,” the old man mused, handing over Seth’s guitar. “Be a fool of a man to pass ’emup.”
Seth packed his acoustic away and got to his feet. He was still looking at me when he said, “Isn’t that thetruth.”
“I’m no angel,” I told the old man, mostly because I felt uncomfortable looking Seth in the eye. He was mere feet away from me, and I wasn’t ready forthat.
“Look like one to me,” the old man said, still smiling his gummy smile atme.
I turned and walked back to the SUV. Flynn met me halfway, or rather, he interceptedSeth.
“Where’s hegoing?”
I stifled the urge to roll my eyes. “You can pat him down if you want to,” I said. “I’m sure he won’tmind.”
I wasn’t sure of that, but I wanted Flynn to feel ridiculous for thinkingit.
He looked Seth over, but let it drop. As I gestured for Joanie to vacate the back seat, he took Seth’s guitar cases from him without a word and loaded them into the back of the truck. Joanie slipped out and hurried up to the front, and we—Seth and I—got into theback.
“Where to?” Flynn asked me as he settled into the driver’sseat.
“The airport,” I answered, because nothing had changed. I was sleeping in Kauai tonight, and nothing was getting in the way ofthat.
After a brief hesitation, during which I assumed Flynn was considering saying more—but wisely chose not to—he started up the truck and got us on ourway.
“You want music?” Joanie asked from the front. Translation:Should I put the music back on so it’s harder for us toeavesdrop?
“Yes,” I said, and she cranked upLenny.
After a tense few blocks, I managed to look over atSeth.
He was sitting there looking uncomfortable and somehow laid-back at the same time. His eyes met mine instantly, and I saw the trepidation there. He had no idea what thiswas.
Neither did I, justyet.
“What were you doing?” I asked him, much more contempt in my voice than was warranted. “Busking?”
“I was talking to Gus,” he said evenly. “He was teaching me asong.”
“He was teachingyou?”
“He had a band back in the day. Played theblues.”
“Oh.”
Well, that was lovely. A glimpse of where Seth might’ve ended up if he hadn’t gotten clean, maybe. I wasn’t even sure why that made me so damn uncomfortable.Guilt?
“You have a lot of friends on thestreet?”
“Some,” he said, seemingly unfazed by thatconcept.
I let it drop. But I kept looking at him, even when he lookedaway.
