“‘Your virtue is safe with me, my lady, but your heart... that I intend to plunder most thoroughly,’” Golda’s voice continues through my car speakers, completely oblivious to my current crisis.
“Oh my god,” Brody breathes. “That’s her, isn’t it? That’s Golda’s voice.”
I finally manage to pause the audio, and the sudden silence in my car feels deafening.
“Brody, I can explain?—”
“You’re sitting in a parking lot listening to the woman you just had coffee with narrate pirate romance novels.”
“It’s not what it sounds like.”
“It sounds like exactly what it is.” There’s a pause, and I can practically hear him trying not to laugh. “Dude. You have a problem.”
“I know.”
“Like, a serious problem.”
“I know.”
“How long have you been sitting there?”
I look at the timestamp. “Four minutes.”
“Four minutes after having actual human contact with her, you’re back to the audiobooks.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s pathetic.”
“That too.”
Brody sighs. “Please tell me you’re not going to do anything stupid.”
“Define stupid.”
“Anything involving Captain Blackwood and his throbbing maritime desires.”
“I make no promises.”
9
GOLDA
My phone buzzesas I’m trying to get dinner started, and Evan’s name on the screen makes my stomach drop. The kids are in the living room arguing over which movie to watch, blissfully unaware that their father is about to ruin something before it even begins.
Schedule change. Picking up the kids Saturday instead of Friday. Work emergency.
Not a request. A declaration. I stare at the message, already seeing the trap.
What time Saturday?
From their hockey practice. Need to observe the program anyway. Making sure it’s appropriate.
My stomach drops. Observe the program. Evaluate whether it’s appropriate. Translation: he’s going to show up and find reasons to criticize, to control, to take this away from them.
Practice ends at 11.
I’ll be there early. Want to see what we’re paying for.
