Page 47

“Clint,” he says. “Could I borrow you for a minute?”

Borrow.

I feel Becca tense.

Paul looks at her. “Only if that’s all right.”

It’s such a polished little move I almost admire it. Respect the girlfriend. Make the request sound optional even though refusing it would turn into a scene.

Becca looks at me.

I shrug. “Sure.”

We move under a pergola covered in vines and string lights that probably look ridiculously elegant after dark. Private enough to talk. Not private enough to be threatening.

For a second, neither of us speaks.

Up close, he doesn’t smell of expensive cologne. Nothing fancy like that. Just something light and clean. Annoying.

“I appreciate you coming,” he says.

“You said that.”

His mouth tightens into something that almost becomes a smile. “I did.”

“Do people not usually believe you the first time?”

He laughs a little. “Frequently, no.”

That should not be funny. It kind of is.

I look back toward the party. “This is a lot.”

“Yes.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

“I didn’t take it as one.”

His honesty keeps knocking me sideways.

Paul looks toward the pool at the DJ and Georgia working the crowd.

“I was hoping this would be… easier,” he says. “I don’t think he wanted this for us.”

“The party?”

“The work.”

I lean back against the wall, bring my height down to meet him. “Am I work?”

His mouth softens with a sadness that looks worn in. “All of this is work.”

“Does the job pay?”

I mean it lightly. Just something to say.

Paul’s face changes when he hears it. Just enough that I know he heard something else. He folds his hands loosely in front of him. It makes him seem more formal, even in swim trunks.