“There’s the fair this weekend,” she explains casually.
I wait for more. The Fall Fair is always a town staple. Becca and I go every year. I didn’t expect her to want me to go with her again, even though I hoped.
“If you’re not working,” she adds.
“I can make it.”
What I almost say isI’ll make time. I’ll move anything for you,but I don’t.
She smiles, small and real. “Okay.”
“Still eating that?” she smirks, nodding toward the sandwich sitting on the tailgate.
“Don’t start,” I say.
“I’m just saying.” She steps closer, voice dropping a little. “That thing might not need to stick around much longer.”
I glance at her. She meets my eyes, completely unbothered and serious.
Then, quieter, “Not if you keep … performing as you do,” she answers with a wink.
My grip tightens on the tailgate, Jesus. I let out a breath through my nose. “Becca,” I admonish.
She smiles, slow and satisfied, knowing exactly what she’s done.
From across the site, one of the guys whistles. “You two need a room or what?”
Becca doesn’t even flinch. Just grabs my water and takes a sip, as if she didn’t hear it. I shake my head, but I can feel the heat sitting under my skin now. More alive, awake than I have felt in months. Careful, I remind myself. Don’t rush it.
My phone buzzes on the tailgate. I ignore it. It buzzes again. Becca glances at it, then back at me. “You gonna get that?”
I reach for it, already knowing who it is. Rick. My jaw tightens before I even open it.
Rick
I’m trying to keep this from getting messy. You pulling out put me in a bad spot with the wrong people. Call me, now, before this goes sideways.
I stare at the text longer than I should. Rick’s not just pissed, he’s in trouble. Reeking of desperation.
“Subtle,” Becca says. She holds her hand out. “Give me your phone.”
I hand it over without hesitation. She scrolls, brow furrowed in focus. Calm in a way that feels … new. Different than before.
“I’ve been … studying him,” she says.
I frown. “Studying how?”
“I pulled phone records,” she says. “Dates, times. When he started reaching out more. Matched it up when he started pushing those weird expenses you mentioned."
I blink. “You did all that?”
She shrugs like it’s nothing. “I’ve got everything in oneplace,” she continues. “His supposed contract you sent me, invoices, changes he tried to slip through, my recorded call, the texts he has sent.”
She hands the phone back to me. “We add these,” she states. “Screenshots.”
I exhale slowly. “Okay, we follow your plan, boss.”
We.It feels different saying it now, stronger.
