I wheeled my car into one of the last zoo parking spots and cut the engine. Sugar sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through the music on my phone, adding songs to playlists and making comments about how some of my favorites were “cringe.”
“So.” I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel. “I guess we’re doing this?”
Simon had insisted on driving—because of course he did—so Sugar and I had ridden separately, claiming we didn’t want to be cramped in the tiny backseat of his small pickup. Truth was, there wasn’t a vehicle in the world big enough to hold both me and Simon.
Out my car window, he and Diane walked hand in hand toward the ticket booth. My skin crawled at the way he so freely touched her.
“If we have to.” Sugar didn’t move.
“What if”—I smoothed baby hairs away from my goddaughter’s face—“if you’re nice to your mama, I’ll buy you a chocolate covered banana?”
“And a snow cone?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
Sugar unbuckled her seatbelt. “Deal.”
“Wait.” I touched her arm. The question I’d been putting off the entire drive, it was now or never. My goddaughter and I talked about everything—she was my mini best friend. But this question…it scared the shit out of me. The world is an ugly place and I’d do whatever it took to shield her from it for as long as possible, but what if I’d failed? What if everything I’d done—what if it wasn’t enough? The way Simon had looked at her, the way Sugar-Bug had tensed when he’d called her Sammy…I couldn’t stop thinking about it. She’d met Simon before I’d known he even existed. There’d been no smoke in Simon’s eyes, but what if it was there…and I’d missed it?
“Yeah, CiCi?”
“Simon—he isn’t…being creepy?”
“Creepy?” Her brows pushed together as she considered the question. “Like annoying?”
“No. Like…is he acting—”
“You mean is he inappropriate?” She crossed her arms. “We watched a video on it at school. See something, say something.”
I nodded. “Yeah. Like that. You know, you could tell me. You can tell me anything.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know, CiCi. But don’t worry. If Simon was being creepy, I’d kick him right in the balls.” She was so sure of her own fierceness, and I hoped that never changed.
“You’re sure?”
“Yeah. He’s not creepy—he’s just kind of a jerk. He tries too hard, you know?” She shook her head, her braid swinging around her shoulders. “Then he gets annoyed if I don’t act like he’s the best thing ever.”
“Okay.” I exhaled. “That’s…okay.. But still. You can come to me with anything, you know that, right? Not just about Simon, but about boys. Or girls. You can bring anything to me, and I…”
Sugar grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze—another reminder that while she was growing, she wasn’t grown. “I know, CiCi. And listen, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m tough.”
“I know, Sug. But if you find yourself in a position where you can’t—be tough, I mean. Come to me. That’s what I’m here for—to be tough for you when you can’t be.”
She considered my words, then nodded. “Okay, CiCi. I’ll remember that.”
Clowns mingled with the crowd, offering photo ops and balloon animals that even the youngest kids didn’t want. Probably because their running face paint and wilting costumes were the stuff of nightmares.
“This is great.” Diane grinned, taking a phallic-looking balloon animal from one of the nightmare clowns. “Look at us. Making memories.”
Sugar rolled her eyes, red blush creeping across her cheeks. “Mom. You cannot carry that thing around.”
“What?” Diane thrust and parried the balloon. “It’s a sword.”
Sugar grabbed the balloon-penis-sword and shoved it into a nearby trash bin. Diane and I giggled while Simon followed along silently.
We passed through the Realm of the Tiger to the monkey habitat, then we stopped to watch a few ducks and pheasants and smaller birds, before pausing under a shady tree next to a statue of Penny, the zoo’s first elephant. Simon weaseled his way between Diane and Sugar and draped an arm over each of their shoulders. An act of ownership that left my hackles raised.
I bit my tongue, clocking Sugar’s annoyed gaze before she shrugged him off. Best-case scenario, Simon simply didn’t care that he was crossing Sug’s boundaries, taking up her space—being the type of person who thought if it wasn’t a big deal to him, then it wasn’t a big deal at all. Worst-case scenario? Well, that’s what I had my eye on.
“Where to now?” I asked, forced cheerfulness oozing from each syllable.
Diane tapped the app on her phone. “Hm. Let’s make the big outer loop, then play it by ear?”
Playing it by ear wasn’t my strongest quality; things worked better when there was a schedule. Trips to the zoo. Selling medicine. Disposing of bodies. A time for everything meant everything got done in time.
But this was Diane’s day, so I tried to relax. Go with the flow. Be my easiest breeziest carefree self.
“It’s so hot,” Sugar whined. “CiCi, you said I could get a snow cone. As many as I wanted because of—”
“Sure, Bug,” I interrupted before she could mention my bribe.
Diane frowned at the app. “The frozen treat cart is all the way near the petting barn and playground—halfway across the zoo. We can start making our way in that direction.”
“I need one now,” Sugar grumbled. “It’s hot as the devil’s ass crack out here.”
“Samantha!” Diane’s mouth dropped open. Her sunglasses sat on top of her head, and I caught the way she peered at Simon from the corner of her eye, then back at her daughter. “Language please.”
“What? You let me say ass all the time. We shouldn’t change the way we talk just because Simon’s here, should we?”
Diane threw me a defeated look.
“Sugar-Bug. Knock it off, brat.” I smiled and swatted her braid playfully.
She ducked away, spinning toward Diane, and pulled on her free arm. “Come on, Mom. Doesn’t a grape snow cone sound good?”
“I said we’re heading in that direction. Chill.” Diane untangled herself from both Simon and Sugar and slid her phone into her back pocket.
Simon pulled out his wallet. “Why don’t Samantha and I run on ahead? She can get her treat, and you ladies can start walking toward us at your own pace—no need for all of us to break a sweat.” He grinned at Sugar. “There are benches we can wait on. It’ll give us a chance to hang out.”
No way. He and Sugar were not hanging out.
“No need.” I turned to my goddaughter. “Race you?”
“Um.” She pretended to consider, then took off like a comet.
“Cheater!” I clomped behind her in my dress and sandals, without another glance at Simon or Di.
Five minutes later, with sweat dripping down my face, I was paying for Sugar’s first snow cone, when I caught sight of one of my best clients pushing a jogging stroller toward the barn door entrance of the petting zoo.
“Dr. Sonnier?” I called out to the young Black woman in athleisure and a sleek bun. “Jessica?” Then louder. “Jessica Sonnier!”
The ob-gyn stopped walking and tossed a look over her shoulder. I waved. We both wore sunshades, but I was sure she recognized me—her brows raised from behind her round frames, and the corners of her mouth curled, as if she were about to smile but stopped herself. Instead of coming over or even returning my greeting, the almost smile dropped from her face, and she sped up, disappearing into the crowd of people.
“Huh,” I said aloud. “Weird.”
“What’s weird?” Sugar took a big bite of her snow cone, her mouth already faintly ringed in purple.
“Nothing.” But it was something. Dr. Sonnier—one of my best clients—had looked right at me and hauled booty away without a single acknowledgment. A month ago, we’d hit up happy hour at her favorite downtown sushi bar, all comped by Meyer Pharmaceutical. If I was a paranoid woman, I’d say it was almost like she’d ran away from me.
That was ridiculous.
Wasn’t it?
I fanned my face with my hands, thankful I’d decided against wearing foundation. There was a reasonable explanation—surely. Dr. Sonnier always talked about how her two-year-old twins kept her busy—and I couldn’t blame her if she was in a hurry to get through this obligatory hellscape as fast as possible. That had to be it—no time for niceties. No way it was an intentional snub. Sure, everyone was tense over the Bosephan recall, but Dr. Sonnier was nothing but a complete professional.
We’d have a good laugh about it at her office. Maybe we’d even grab brunch if she wasn’t too busy. Without Bosephan I needed to pitch some of Meyer’s other medicinal therapies if I was going to make my credit card payments.
Still…why hadn’t she at least waved?
I tugged Sugar lightly by the arm as I shuffled out of the way so a family could squeeze by. I’d never understand why the zoo festival was so popular.
Sugar looked longingly toward the nearby playground, which was filled with younger kids. It was also circled with plenty of benches.
And shade.
“You know,” I said. “The playground looks like a lot of fun to me.”
She sighed. “It’s for kids, CiCi. What if someone from school saw me?”
“Sugar.” I crossed my arms. “If someone from your class is at this godforsaken zoo festival, they’re probably already on the playground having a good time. And if not, you can always say—I don’t know—that you are helping babysit or something.”
“You’re telling me to lie?” She cocked a hip to the side as she shoveled another scoop of frosty grape slush into her mouth.
“No.” I grimaced. “I mean—kind of. That was bad—forget I said that. I only meant—who cares what other people think? What if I go with you?”
“You? On the playground?” Her eyes widened in shock.
“Sure,” I said. “Why not?”
I hoped she’d say no. God, I hoped.
Diane would join a game of tag or jump on the swings like an overgrown kid. She practically bled excitement when playing with her daughter.
I, on the other hand, had never been the playground type. Even as a child I’d sat on the sidelines at recess, bedazzled by my classmates—the way they ran and yelled with no cares. It was like there was a secret textbook everyone read except me. How to Be Free and Fun on the Playground: Tenth Edition.
There was only one place I’d ever captured that weightless joy, that uninhibited bliss—and it wasn’t on the swings or merry-go-round.
Still, if Sugar needed me…then I’d try. Even if it meant staining my favorite dress or chipping my fresh seventy-dollar manicure.
My goddaughter sighed. “No. It’s okay—that would be so much worse.”
Oh, thank god.
“Wow.” My hand fluttered to my collarbone as if I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Your loss.”
Sugar slurped down the last of her snow cone, purple sugar-water dripping down her chin. She looked again to the playground, the wheels in her head turning.
“Come on.” I took a step toward the way we’d come. “If you don’t want to play, we should go find your mom…and Simon.”
Sugar wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and her eyes narrowed. “I’d rather swim in the toilet.”
I pushed my sunglasses onto my head, mirroring her phony stink eye. With possibly the most dramatic eye roll in history, Sugar tossed her trash in a nearby bin, then took off like a rocket toward the hippo slide.
Lately, that girl contained more angsty almost teen and less and less free-spirited kid. This might very well be our last playground visit. My heart fluttered like bird wings, and for a moment I understood why Diane had gotten emotional over baby teeth.
I dusted off a nearby bench and took a seat in the shade.
That’s when I saw him.
I guess the flyer was true—everyone really did go wild for Zippity Zoo Fest.
Unlike Dr. Sonnier, this person didn’t have to pretend not to recognize me—he had no idea who I was.
I’d been stalking Frank off and on for a while, always carefully hidden or disguised.
I thought I knew of all his haunts. The dilapidated playground near the overpass. That hole-in-the-wall bar downtown. Even his preferred barber. Strangely, he was at the zoo. If Frank was branching out, exploring new hunting grounds, then his behavior might be escalating. He was getting braver.
That wouldn’t do.
I couldn’t be everywhere—the unfortunate truth was, there were always more monsters to deal with. Always worse monsters to deal with.
Frank was always there, lurking on my periphery. I’d been on edge lately—thank you, Simon—that urgent jitteriness sparking just under my skin. A feeling, I knew from experience, that could only be calmed by action. Maybe it was time to bring Frank into my crosshairs.
I fidgeted with the friendship bracelet on my wrist, staring at the monster as he stared at a child—a girl somewhere around four years old—with a head of dark hair and a wide smile. Frank had no family, and this little girl gave no indication that she knew the creepy man. No side glances in his direction. No grins. No calls of Watch this!
She was spunky, arms waving in the air as she chased bigger kids.
My eyes narrowed on the monster. He leaned forward, elbows on his splayed open knees. If he engaged in any way, I’d intervene. I had to.
There was no need. Frank stood and shuffled across the playground, no one noticing how strange it was for a grown man to hang out in such a place without a reason for being there.
Almost no one.
I’d noticed, hadn’t I?
The hairs on my arms stood to full salute.
Not enough time had passed since my last kill—I knew this. But I also knew I couldn’t wait much longer. Tension built in me; it screamed. Frank was dangerous. I had proof: messages he’d sent to an underage girl online, pictures he’d requested, and then there was the dark smoke clouding his eyes.
It was time he learned that the world could be dangerous for monsters like him too.
Soon, Frank. Sooner than you think.
“You decided to come to the zoo after all?”
Startled, I thwacked my palms against the aluminum bench and looked up.
Christopher stood over me, smiling (because of course he was), silhouetted by glowing sunshine. In that moment, he was a literal golden-boy.
“Jesus. You surprised me.” I squinted past him, in the direction where Frank had been heading moments before. He was gone.
Good.
“Sorry about that.” Christopher’s arms were crossed loosely over his chest. With his black curls and dressed in a white fitted tee and dark jeans, he was one set of black-rimmed glasses away from a Clark Kent cosplay.
I pulled my purse into my lap and gestured for him to sit.
“You sure?” he asked. “I texted you a while ago and you didn’t answer—I figured you’d changed your mind.” He paused, then added quickly, “Which is totally fine.”
“What are you talking about?” I slipped Sweet Cordelia over me like sliding into a perfectly tailored dress and let concern drip from my words. Had I upset this big amazing man? Oh no. That wouldn’t do.
“That text you sent this morning? Asking if I would be at the Zoo Fest?”
“Shoot. I’m sorry. This morning has been…well it’s been interesting.” That was an understatement. Simon had rattled me and that text felt like a lifetime ago. “I wasn’t ghosting, I promise. When I didn’t hear from you immediately, I figured you had plans already.”
“Nah,” he shrugged. “I was outside mowing the grass and didn’t see it until later. I texted you back.”
“Oh.” I opened my bag to pull out my phone, but it wasn’t there. Oh. Right. Sugar had used it to make playlists on the drive over. “I must’ve left my phone in the car.”
“No worries.” McSmiley slid onto the bench next to me. “I was already bringing my niece, Olive, anyway. That’s her over there.” He gestured to the dark-haired free-spirited girl—the same girl Frank had watched. I shuddered. Christopher had no idea how closely a monster had lurked to his family. Frank was officially bumped up my roster.
“She’s so cute,” I said. “That one’s my goddaughter, Samantha.” I gestured to where Sugar was hanging upside down on the monkey bars, shrieking with laughter.
“Looks like she’s having a good time.”
“Ha.” I gave him a conspiratorial look. “I had to bribe her with snow cones and I’m pretty sure she’ll freak if she doesn’t get a frozen banana. Not that I blame her.”
“What? You don’t like the zoo?” he asked.
“Oh, come on,” Sweet Cordelia teased. “You can’t tell me your idea of fun is sitting around sunbaked animal dung and crying babies?”
“I like bringing Olive to the zoo—we have the yearly pass.” He watched his niece, who was in line for the slide. “It’s worth it to see her excitement, you know?”
Did I know? I hated the zoo, but here I was. And why? Because it was important to Di. “Yeah,” I said. “I guess maybe I do.”
A breeze brought the odor of the nearby goat pen. “Nope.” I coughed against its sour taste. “I lied. This is the worst.”
Christopher laughed; I was such a funny little thing. Score one for Sweet Cordelia. Soon I’d know all his secrets. And, okay, fine. It was a nice laugh—uninhibited and easy.
“There you are!” Diane appeared behind me. She squeezed my shoulders before circling the bench. Curls escaped her bun and frizzed around her face, and in the sunshine, her freckles stood out like pennies dropped in snow. She didn’t bother to hide the smirk on her lips as she openly sized up Christopher, her eyes twinkling.
She was alone. I worked concern into my voice. “Did Simon leave?”
“What?” She slid her plastic heart-framed sunglasses from the top of her head onto her face. “No. Why would he leave? He’s over there getting us something to drink.” She waved toward the small café that sold sodas and snacks, near the other side of the petting zoo, where Simon stood in line, his back to us.
“We got caught up watching one of the handler shows—did you know this zoo has a ring-tailed lemur? Fascinating, right?” Diane’s face swiveled from me to Christopher, who was, of course, still smiling. “I’m sorry. Did you two just meet?”
Diane would’ve loved that—a rom-com meet-cute at the zoo. “This is Christopher. He was my date. From Friday.”
“Wait.” Diane’s eyes rounded. “You’re McSmiley?”
Even with her sunglasses, her face flooded with that familiar faraway, swoony look—an expression as common to Diane as sneezing.
Christopher’s brow furrowed. “McSmiley?”
“You know.” Diane grinned at Christopher and pushed her index fingers into the corners of her smile—a real cheesecake pose. “McSmiley. Because Cordelia has a thing for nice teeth.”
“She does?” Christopher’s tone was playful. “McSmiley, huh? I like it.”
“Cool it, cupcake kid,” I said.
“Oh, that’s right. The cupcake.” Diane shook her head while Christopher pretended to groan.
“For what it’s worth,”—Diane shot me a look—“I thought it was cute. I’m Diane, by the way. Cordelia’s best friend, though you probably can’t tell since she still hasn’t introduced me.”
Diane wiggled between me and Christopher on the bench, her gaze still pivoting back and forth as she grinned at each of us. She was loving this.
“Nice to meet you.” Christopher nodded to where Diane’s hand squeezed mine. “Okay. It makes sense now.”
“What does?” I asked.
“The bracelet. I noticed it at the restaurant.”
Diane’s eyes crinkled and she mouthed, So cute.
I ignored her. “What about it?”
Christopher shrugged. “I haven’t seen a friendship bracelet since cub scouts, is all.”
“You were a cub scout?” My bestie’s hand flew to her heart. She should’ve met Christopher first—the cupcake thing would’ve totally worked on Diane. And Christopher, despite being a know-it-all cop, and a tad annoying, seemed like an actual nice guy—not a phony like Simon.
The two of them sat on either side of me, grinning like they were in on a joke. Yeah. They’d be kind of perfect together. Too bad girl code was Diane’s religion. She’d never go out with someone after I’d dated them, even if I insisted it was fine.
An ear-piercing scream came from the playground. We all looked toward the sound in time to witness Christopher’s niece landing on her butt at the bottom of the slide, tears streaked across her rosy cheeks.
Without a word, Christopher jogged over and scooped her up. He held the tiny girl over his shoulder and patted her back as he whispered in her ear.
“Stop it.” Diane clutched my arm. “I think my ovaries exploded.”
“Do you even want another kid?”
“Doesn’t matter. Something about a huge good-looking guy, taking care of a little child. It just—” She fanned herself with both hands. “And he was a cub scout. That’s so adorable.”
“If you say so.” My ovaries were perfectly safe, thank you very much.
“I don’t remember swiping on a guy with a kid, though. Did he not mention her, or?”
“That’s his niece, Olive,” I said. We watched as Christopher jostled the tiny girl up and down in his arms as he walked toward the frozen concession cart.
“He brought his niece to the zoo? That’s too much. He’s not real.”
“You want him?” I said it like I was joking.
She swatted my arm. “Stop it. Christopher’s adorable, but you know I like ’em a little nerdy.”
Sugar jogged over, stopping the conversation. The corners of her lips turned down as if she’d rather have been anywhere else. The child who’d hung upside down, shrieking on the monkey bars had once again been replaced by a moody tween. Talk about whiplash.
“Hey, sweetie,” Diane said. “Having fun?”
“It’s fine,” Sugar grumbled. “It’s just so hot.”
I looked to the concessions cart, where Christopher was paying for a frozen banana. Olive’s face was buried in his neck as he walked back over, approaching at the same moment as Simon, whose arms were full of paper cups. Simon passed one to Diane and one to me. When he tried to pass Sugar a drink, she shook her head. “No thanks. I don’t want anything right now.”
He frowned, first at Sugar, then at Christopher, but said nothing, clearly annoyed his soda run was being overshadowed by another man exploding his girlfriend’s ovaries.
“Sorry about that. Evel Knievel here took a tumble.” Christopher bounced Olive on his hip. “If I don’t get this one back home to her mom, this could turn into a code red. Code red is not the second date experience I want to give you.”
“Date?” Sugar’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait one minute…”
“And you must be Samantha.” Christopher looked down at Sugar and held out the banana. “A little bird told me you could use one of these.”
“Yeah. That’s me.” Sugar grinned and took the treat, chomping off a mouthful. “Thanks!”
“Thought you didn’t want anything right now?” Simon said. He spoke as if he were teasing, but once again, the slight tic in his jaw gave him away. He was pissed.
Sugar rolled her eyes, then said to Christopher, “And thanks for getting my name right.”
The dig was subtle, but no way Simon didn’t register it.
Diane bounced to her feet and grabbed Christopher’s free arm—the one not full of whimpering preschooler. “Christopher, Samantha here is the one that made these incredible pieces of jewelry you like so much.” She waved her wrist through the air.
“Yeah. When I was a baby,” Sugar mumbled, straightening up. “So embarrassing.”
Diane nodded toward Simon. “And this is my…um…boyfriend, Simon.”
Christopher adjusted his niece in his arms and held out his hand. “Good to meet you.”
Simon looked at Christopher’s outstretched hand, but nodded without a word. Christopher let his arm drop to his side, ignoring the snub.
“I know how it is when the baby gets tired, so I won’t keep you,” Diane said, trying, and failing, not to sound embarrassed. After a beat of awkward silence, her smile brightened. “Oh. I know. I’m planning a…uh…a barbecue! Yes, I’m planning a barbecue for next Sunday.”
“You are?” I asked.
She nodded. “Sure am. I told you about it, remember?”
I was certain Diane had never mentioned a barbecue. Normally I’d be annoyed at getting railroaded into hanging out with a man I barely knew, when it wasn’t my idea. But this…this could work—another opportunity to pick McSmiley’s brain, and also watch Simon.
Sweet Cordelia grinned. “Oh yeah. Sure.”
Diane patted Christopher’s arm. “You’re invited—and I’ll take it personally if you don’t show. Don’t let our Cordelia here off the hook.”
Simon cleared his throat, and when no one paid him attention, he slipped his arm around Diane’s waist, tugging her toward him. Hard.
Christopher’s brows steepled. Diane stumbled into Simon’s side, almost toppling over. I opened my mouth to say something, but Diane rolled her eyes and laughed. “Babe. What’s wrong? You don’t know your own strength?”
Simon’s gaze landed on each of us, gauging our reactions, before locking on Diane’s. He dropped a kiss on her head. “Sorry. You’re just so tiny and cute.”
Bullshit. The way he’d pulled her—it had not been an accident.
But Diane was smiling. She was laughing; it was her real laugh. Her arm was looped around Simon’s waist.
Had I only seen what I wanted to see? A monster behind every bush?
“A barbecue sounds great.” Christopher recovered the awkward moment. He patted his niece’s back. “And it was nice to meet all of you, but I think it’s time for us to go.”
He faced me, his brown eyes looking intently into my blue ones. “I owe you an actual decent date. Let’s get together soon. No phony cupcakes. No—how’d you put it?—screaming babies and baking animal poop?”
“Dung,” I said. “Animal dung. And yeah, sure. You have my number.”
Sugar shook her head. “I cannot believe CiCi’s on a date right now.”
“So’s your mom,” I teased.
My goddaughter doubled over and pretended to gag. Christopher laughed, but my eyes were on Simon, whose expression remained plastic—all smiling Nice-Guy. Curated.
“Great,” Christopher said as Olive whimpered, gearing up for another round of tears. “I’ll call you.” He turned to Diane. “It was great meeting you.” Then to Sugar. “Ms. Samantha. It’s been a pleasure.” The way he completely ignored Simon made me like him a little more.
Sugar grinned as he walked by, heading down the sidewalk toward the exit.
Once he was out of sight, Diane spun toward me. “Cordelia Renee Black—I like this guy.”
“Renee? Who the hell is Renee?”
“The moment called for three names. Renee fits—I like Renee.”
“You know I don’t have a middle name.” I wrinkled my nose. “And Diane. A barbecue? I thought you were vegetarian now?” She’d sworn off meat after a blind date forced her to watch a particularly gruesome documentary.
“I haven’t been a vegetarian for months.” Diane shook her head.
“Mom, you were never vegetarian.” Sugar sighed dramatically. “Once, after dinner with the weirdo, Mom took us to get Taco Bell.”
“Hush. Kate wasn’t a weirdo. She, you know, had her convictions.” Diane shrugged. “But I’m not giving up steak quesadillas for anyone.”
Diane pulled away from Simon’s embrace, then passed him her soda. “Here ya go, babe.” She held out her hands, and I set my own cup aside and looped my purse over my shoulder, then let her tug me to my feet. We locked arms—the three of us—me, Diane, and Sugar.
Simon’s hands clutched the giant cups of soda so tightly it was a wonder his fingers didn’t pierce the paper.
“You okay?” I asked him, sweetly. Maybe my question would direct Diane to notice the way the bands in Simon’s neck tensed or the way the corners of his mouth hardened. It was overkill to be this upset over a conversation with another man—over Diane, who was a self-professed flirt, simply touching another guy’s arm. It didn’t make him a monster, but the red flags were piling up.
For the second time, I wondered if I wouldn’t need to break them up after all—maybe it would take care of itself. Nothing was less attractive than a sulking man-baby.
Simon blinked away the sour expression. “Sorry. Thanks for asking. This heat has me a little off.”
Simon turned his mask of a smile toward me, and I met it with my own.
Was it me? Was I delusional? Was my history, my calling, my jealousy of anyone who took up my best friend’s time—were these things making me see something that wasn’t there? No. He’d completely snubbed McSmiley, not to mention the way he’d tugged Diane.
There was no smoke…
What about Tristan? The smoke had come late with Tristan.
But Simon wasn’t Tristan, and I had a code.
The rest of the day passed as expected—slow and sweltering. Simon and Diane meandered through the zoo, their arms draped over each other, while Sugar skipped ahead. Simon was on his best behavior. He was overly gentle with Diane. There were no side glances at Sugar. No rude remarks or leapfrogging over boundaries. When I brought up Christopher, hoping to get a reaction, he was polite.
He was nothing but a forgettable man dating a woman out of his league. Annoying? Yes. But annoying got a broken heart—not a death sentence.
“Mooom.” Sugar froze, yards in front of us near the bank of bathrooms. Her voice shrill with panic. “I need you. Bring your purse.”
“Oh.” A knowing look crossed Diane’s face. “One second.”
She hurried after Sugar, leaving Simon and me alone. His hair—earlier styled—now hung limp from sweat.
Without Diane around to impress, Simon’s Nice-Guy mask dropped, and his mouth puckered into a frown.
I stared at him. My mind reeled—there was no smoke, I had a code, my instincts are never wrong.
“What?” he snapped. “Why do you keep looking at me like that.”
Fuck it. There were too many warning signs. I couldn’t risk it. Not when it concerned my family.
I closed the gap between us, standing inches in front of him. I stood on my toes, leaning close and peering directly into the gunmetal depths of his eyes. “Be still.”
“What’s wrong with you?” He stumbled back, a snarl twisting his mouth. “Get away from me.”
I bit my bottom lip and looked harder.
“Cordelia? Did you hear me?” His voice was a dagger, steely and sharp.
“Hold still.” My tone was sharper. “I’m checking something.”
It had to be there. All the signs said it should be there—the way he treated Sugar, the way he’d harshly tugged Diane, how he’d gotten so pissed that she’d dared to talk to another guy that he wouldn’t shake Christopher’s hand. And there was the feeling in my gut.
Simon shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, stop. You’re acting crazy.”
I frowned.
There was still no smoke.