“It’s going to be a perfect beach day. Hold my coffee.” Kayla handed her cup to Julie and wrestled with her beach chair. “I can never remember how this thing works.”
“You say that every year,” Aggie said, and took it from her. The chair slid open. Aggie twirled it around and stuck it in the sand. “Just have to have that magic touch.” She dragged her own chair over to form a neat semicircle with the others.
Julie had nestled her cup in the sand and was slathering on sunscreen, trying not to think about the upcoming surfing lesson. It wasn’t fear exactly. She knew how to swim . . . well enough. She did great in the town pool, but she could see the bottom there. The idea of other things that you couldn’t see swimming with her . . . She would happily sit on the beach for the next nine days reading and sleeping and never getting wet above her ankles. Face it, she told herself. You’re a wuss.
She was; she didn’t have to remind herself. Just witness her last day of school.
She reached over to get her paperback, realized it was on the other side of Aggie’s beach chair. “Can you hand me my bag?”
“Sure.” Aggie tossed the bag over to Julie, dumping the paperback and a slew of brochures in her own lap. “Sorry.” She picked up the paperback. “Her Pirate’s Heart? I haven’t read that one.” The paperback followed the bag. She straightened the brochures, started to hand them to Julie, then pulled them back. “I get Mexico and Italy, but”—she held up two of the sleek trifolds—“a safari? The Peace Corps?”
Kayla sat up. “What are you blathering about?”
“Julie’s planning our next vacation.”
“I’m not going on any safari. And I can’t afford Italy.”
“None of us can,” Julie said, reaching for the brochures.
“So . . . what is all this?” Aggie held them just out of reach.
“Well . . .” Julie hesitated. You didn’t keep friends if you were afraid to confide in them. Still . . . “You know what we were talking about last night at dinner?”
Two blank faces looked back at her.
“About Lenora Jenner quitting.”
“Yeah?” Kayla said. “What does Lenora quitting have to do with us going on safari?”
“Nothing,” Julie said, “if you must know. The brochures are not for vacation. I applied for a leave of absence.”
Both women sat up, turned as one to Julie.
“You’re taking next year off?” Kayla asked.
“They turned me down.”
“Whew,” said Aggie. “I mean, that’s awful, but we’d miss you. They turned you down? How could they do that? You won teacher of the year last year.”
“Probably because she won teacher of the year,” Kayla said. “They’d be crazy to let you go, even for a year.”
Julie tried for a smile. “Well, it’s academic now.”
“Jules, we’re sorry,” Kayla said.
Aggie nodded. “But what were you planning to do? A world tour?”
“I guess that was the problem. I wanted to broaden my horizons. Learn something new.”
“How broad do your horizons have to be to teach fourth grade?”
Julie opened her mouth, closed it, at a loss for any answers. Whatever they were, she obviously didn’t have them.
“It doesn’t matter.” Julie took the brochures and stuffed them back in the beach bag, lifted up her paperback.
Kayla plucked it out of her hands. “Not so fast. What’s going on?”
Julie looked out to sea. The water was sparkling like glass or diamonds . . . shards of discontent. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure I want to be a teacher anymore.”
“What happened?” Aggie asked. “Did someone complain?”
“You know how these parents are,” Kayla added.
“No. It’s something else. I’ve been feeling this way for a couple of years now. Like I’m not where I should be, not doing the job I should be doing.”
“You’re a great teacher.”
“I’m a decent teacher. I can teach the material, maybe get them to understand it. But I’m not making a difference.”
“Well . . . sure you are.” Kayla frowned. “We all are.”
“You are. Aggie is. Don’t think I’m saying that teachers can’t make a difference. It’s just not for me. I don’t blame the kids or even their parents. It’s just . . . not for me.”
“Of course it is, you’ve always wanted to be a teacher,” Kayla said.
“That’s what I thought, too. I thought I would inspire them, excite them, open them to new worlds.” Julie huffed out a sigh. “Most of them already have more experience in the world than I do.”
“You just have end-of-the-year burnout,” Aggie said, looking concerned. “I was ready to brain every one of the little buggers. That’s why we go on vacation.”
“Maybe I should have been a nurse.”
Her two friends stared at her.
“The two things Mom encouraged me to do.”
“We remember,” Aggie said. “Nursing and teaching, job security, steady paycheck, and retirement benefits.”
“And we all listened,” Kayla added.
“You love teaching,” Aggie said, but Julie heard her voice waver.
“I want to. I just feel so ineffectual. The kids don’t need me. They have social media; I can’t get them interested in anything that isn’t trending. They’re in the fourth grade. They hardly even look out the window. Sometimes I just want to take their phones away, herd them outside in the rain. Get their feet wet, play in the mud.” She sighed. “But muddy shoes won’t get you into a top college.”
“Definitely burnout,” Kayla said.
“I’m not even sure that I want to go back.”
“What do you mean?” Aggie asked. “Not go back this year?”
“Not go back at all.”
“Hell,” Aggie said. “What about your pension? Another seventeen years and you can retire with a full salary. You’ll only be forty-five, and forty-five is the new thirty.”
“I thought forty was the new thirty.”
“Whatever. But think, only seventeen years.”
Julie shrugged, trying to quell the panic that was rising in her gut. “We could all be hit by a bus before we get there, then what? I’m turning thirty and I feel like I’ve never done anything, you know, important or interesting.”
She used to dream about seeing the places Lucky would tell her about, but her mother always said, There’s enough time when you’ve established yourself and saved some money.
But even back then, she could hear what her mother wasn’t saying—a frivolous waste of time and money. She was too busy keeping them afloat and doing with less so Julie could have more.
Her mother had never had time for fun.
But Lucky had.
“So what,” said Aggie. “At three o’clock you can go home.”
“And grade papers and make lesson plans that have to conform to everyone else’s lesson plans. I feel like an imposter—have felt that way for a while now.”
“Well,” Aggie said after an uncomfortable silence. “I say there’s no better place to be in a career crisis than at the beach. We’ll chill and hang and learn to surf, and things will look better. You’ll see.”
Kayla reached over and put her hand on Julie’s arm. “Don’t do anything crazy.”
“Me?” Julie laughed. “Have you ever known me to do anything without planning ahead?” And maybe that was just what was wrong with her.
“And in the meantime, we have a surf lesson. I can’t believe Uncle Lucky never taught you . . .” The rest of the sentence was muffled as Aggie’s head disappeared into the cooler. She tossed out apples, which Julie barely was able to catch.
She handed one to Kayla, who was already stretched out, a wide-brimmed straw hat sheltering her eyes from the morning sun.
Kayla studied the apple before taking a bite. “Yum. Remind me to go for baked or steamed tonight.”
“Agreed,” Julie said. “I think I ate ten days’ vacation worth of grease last night.”
“Well, I for one plan to eat my way through every seafood known to the Delaware shore.” Aggie passed out breakfast bars. “Eat up.”
Well, thought Julie. She’d wanted adventure. Here it was.
Julie lifted her sunglasses up to look out to the water, where a surfing lesson was already in progress. A young woman lay on her stomach on a board while one of the buff instructors stood beside her waist-deep in the water. Julie had noticed them when they’d first arrived at the beach, and they’d been in the same position ever since.
I can do that, she told herself optimistically, and took a bite of apple.
Twenty minutes came all too soon, and Julie, feeling not quite so optimistic, followed her two friends across the sand. The beach was already filling with people: families setting up camp for the day, kids playing Frisbee, younger kids digging in the sand.
Julie took a deep breath, tried to channel vacation feelings, and was surprised to feel it working. She guessed that confession really was good for the soul, or at least good for bonding with your friends.
Les came outside to meet them and he flashed them a white-toothed grin. “Morning, ladies.”
Julie could see why Aggie was already smitten: sun-streaked hair flopping over one eye, tight abs, impressive biceps, board shorts riding low on narrow hips, and a good face to put the bow on it.
Aggie lit up like next year’s Christmas tree. He seemed pretty happy to see her, too. Well, good for her. Aggie knew how to have fun wherever she was, something Julie had never perfected. Always shoulder to the grindstone, making contingency plans for everything. Like her mother.
Until recently. Julie had been floored when her mom had announced she was taking an island cruise. She couldn’t remember a time when her mother had done something frivolous for herself. At first she’d been afraid that it might be a bucket list thing, that her mother was terribly ill and was going to live it up before she went.
But Louise had quickly put an end to that. It was a nurses’ conference that several of her colleagues had decided to go on and talked her into going, too. Off-season, cheap, and a learning experience to make them better nurses and further their careers. Her mom’s dream vacation.
Les led them over to where three boards lay in the sand. “We always start on land,” he said. “Since there are three of you, I’ve asked Bjorn to help out.”
Bjorn, blue eyed with blond hair tied back in a ponytail, stood up to an impressive height. “Good morning, ladies.” He had a delectable Scandinavian accent.
“Bjorn came over for the summer,” Les explained.
Julie looked from Bjorn to the ocean, where gentle waves broke near the shore. Delaware seemed an odd place to come if he wanted to surf.
Julie didn’t know squat about surfing except what she’d gleaned by hanging around listening to Lucky and his cronies. They talked about the Pipeline in Hawaii, Oaxaca, Tahiti, and California. No one ever said, Man, do you remember the big one in Delaware?
See, she told herself. These are the kinds of things you learn when you’re not hermetically sealed inside your own expectations. For all she knew, Delaware was the “in” place to surf.
Les explained the mechanics of surfing, then under the enthusiastic tutelage of Les and Bjorn, they spent the next fifteen minutes lying on their stomachs and pushing to their feet.
Not as easy as it looked, Julie had to admit, and they weren’t even in the water yet. When her thighs began to scream in protest, Les finally gave them a break and explained how to fall off.
Get up, fall off. Got it.
“You’re doing great. For your next lesson, I’ll give you a board leash, but today we’ll be staying in white water.”
He showed them how to carry the boards into the water.
As they passed Surf’s Up, Les called out. “CeeJay!”
A skinny blond girl stuck her head out the door. It was the same girl who had been arguing with the knitting store lady.
“You’re in charge.”
The girl gave Julie, Aggie, and Kayla the once-over.
“And don’t help yourself to the till while we’re gone.”
CeeJay scowled at everyone in general and disappeared back inside.
They slid their boards into the water and guided them, more or less, to where they all stood waist-deep in the surf. Julie was already feeling the strain.
Bjorn helped her to slide onto her board and gave her a push. She made it about six feet before a breaking wave drove her right back to shore, where she sprawled in the sand and her board squirted out to sea where it had refused to go while she was on it.
“Fall to the side,” Bjorn reminded her, and reached out to retrieve her board.
Kayla kept paddling like crazy and managed to stay put. Aggie toppled over. Les lifted her, spluttering and laughing, out of the surf.
Bjorn glided the board back to Julie with an ease that made her grit her teeth. “Okay, try it again. Don’t fight the waves. Work with them.”
She hit the next wave head-on and got a mouthful of salt water for her trouble. When it passed, she found herself still a few feet from the shore. Progress, she thought optimistically. She was feeling pretty smug when the next wave carried her right back to where she’d started. She remembered to roll off before she got too shallow and the fin got damaged by the sand.
She stood up, dragged the board through the water. This time she walked it out as far as she could, jumping over the waves that continued to roll in. When she was chest-deep, she scrambled onto the board. Not an easy feat.
Bjorn and Les were busy with the other two, so Julie grabbed and splashed and finally managed to slide her stomach across the board. She wriggled to the side and hauled both legs onto the board. Huffed out a breath and met Bjorn’s grin.
“An interesting technique,” he said.
“Whatever works,” Julie said.
“But you’re facing the wrong way.”
Julie looked up. Everything was blue ahead. She sat up.
“I mean you’re facing the back of the board, which is facing the wrong way.”
She felt the board move. Her first reaction was to pick her feet out of the water, until she realized that Bjorn had the board by the nose and was turning it to face the open sea.
“Now you.”
Julie groaned, then scooted around until she was facing the ocean again.
“Good, now paddle.” He gave the board a push. “Keep your head down. I’m right behind you.”
It was exhausting work, and by the time Les said, “Okay, now you’re ready to try standing,” Julie was thinking about lunch and a piña colada.
The next eternity was spent with the three friends climbing to their feet only to be dumped in the water. Kayla managed to stand for a few long seconds. Julie and Aggie hooted and began to applaud, when a larger swell hit Kayla from behind, tossing her and her board into the air. Julie and Aggie screamed as she disappeared into the water.
Bjorn and Les both dove in and pulled her out.
She spluttered and shook her head. Her hair sprayed water. “That was so much fun!” she exclaimed. “Where’s my board?”
After a few more attempts with varying degrees of success, Les called it a day. “Tomorrow we’ll go deeper and you can ride the big ones.”
Julie glanced out and saw the waves were suddenly looking a lot bigger than they had earlier. Maybe it will rain.
Julie’s arms and legs were shaking as she wrestled the unwieldy surfboard across the sand to its rack.
“So, you game for another lesson?” Les asked them, but he was mainly looking at Aggie, who, wet and bedraggled, still exuded sex appeal. Julie didn’t know how she did it. She wished she had some of it herself. As it was, she was just wet, bedraggled, and wishing she could lie down for a nap.
They agreed to another lesson in the next day or two, then staggered across the sand to their beach chairs.
“That was exhausting,” Kayla said, flopping onto her chair. “But what a rush. For those couple of seconds I was standing on water. It was so cool.”
“Definitely fun,” Aggie said. “And invigorating. I wonder if Lucky’s is open for lunch.”
Kayla checked her watch, the only one of them with a waterproof timepiece. An extravagance for the usually frugal kindergarten teacher that she’d bought as a necessity “because of bath time.” Fine by Julie. Kayla deserved some extravagance, since her deadbeat ex didn’t do anything but obstruct her and disappoint the kids.
Kayla sat up. “It’s almost noon. Man, that went fast.”
“But do we dare eat the food?” Julie wondered.
“Good point,” Kayla said. “There’s bound to be a good restaurant in town.”
Aggie gave her a look. “I’m not going back to the hotel, taking the time to shower and change clothes, just to eat a hot dog, rewind, and get back to the beach before the sun goes down. Lucky’s must be able to throw a burger on the grill. I’ll ask Les.”
She wandered off, weaving like she’d already had a few too many girlie drinks.
Julie planned to look like that herself by the time lunch was over. Then she was going to spend the afternoon reading under the umbrella that still lay crammed into its plastic case.
Aggie returned a few minutes later, looking incredibly smug.
“Well?” asked Kayla. “Does Lucky’s serve food and will it give us food poisoning?”
“Yes, and Lucky’s has a Thai chef.”
Julie snorted. “I think ‘chef’ is probably a stretch.”
Aggie shrugged. “Maybe, but Les says he makes a mean burger and the best pad thai in twenty miles.”
“Sounds like lunch,” Kayla said, and leaned over to brush the sand from her feet before slipping them into her thongs.
Julie closed the book she’d barely opened and stood up. “Think it’s safe to leave our stuff here?”
“Oh sure,” Aggie said. “Les will watch out for it.”
“So when did you have time to get so chummy with Les?” Julie asked as they trudged up the sand to the bar. “We haven’t even been here twenty-four hours.”
“More than enough time to par-ty,” Aggie said, and shimmied, setting off the aqua waves printed across her beach cover-up.
Lucky’s was blessedly cool after their morning in the sun, and they decided to opt for a table inside. Corey, Ike, and Ron were sitting at the same places they’d been sitting when Julie and her friends had arrived the day before. Probably sat there every day, on the same stools, drinking the same beer on tap.
They turned simultaneously and nodded at the three women, then turned back to the bartender.
Scatter zeroed in on Julie. He did not look pleased.
Well, neither was she. And she was dying to march right up to him and say, I know what you did last night.
But she didn’t really know. And he might be dangerous. Actually, she was pretty sure he was. And not in a sexy pirate way.
She just hoped her uncle wasn’t involved. Because if he was, her mother would somehow get dragged into it. What if she had to use all her savings to get Lucky out of jail? Or pay for his attorney fees? What if something had happened to her uncle and her mother blamed her?
Kayla and Aggie had already snagged a table near the dartboard. From the look in Scatter’s eyes, Julie didn’t think that was the best choice, but she sat down anyway.
A stocky young waiter brought water and three menus, which consisted of a typed paper slipped inside a sheet protector.
“Our lunch menu,” the server said with a smile that showed crooked, discolored teeth. He nodded and walked away, limping slightly. Another one of Lucky’s strays, no doubt.
“Strange choice for a waiter,” Kayla said.
“Not at all,” Julie said. She had just been thinking the same thing, but defense of Lucky’s choice came unbidden and unwanted to her lips. “Lucky always helped people who needed it.”
“Well, look who’s sticking up for Lucky for a change. And just so you know, I agree,” Kayla said. “Still, you have to admit that most places have cute college people manning the front end. Think about it.”
And, of course, Julie did. And what Kayla said was true. Look at them, three almost thirty-year-old teachers, out for fun and ogling cute surfers and talking about partying. They were just ordinary schoolteachers. And they were looking for fun just like everyone else.
They started with nachos and piña coladas as a test of Lucky’s cuisine. They were both so delicious, they ordered sliders, the pad thai, curry coconut shrimp, and another round of drinks.
The drinks didn’t come with umbrellas, but they were frosty and tangy and sweet, and Julie found herself musing on how someone as un . . . -couth? -finished? -communicative? as Alex/Scatter could make such a refreshing girlie drink.
With the second round of drinks came the rest of their lunch and Alex/Scatter himself. He wasn’t carrying a tray but had three plates lined up along his arm. Julie automatically moved out of spill range, but he neatly placed them on the table with an ease that impressed her. Then he stood at attention.
“Enjoying your stay?” His smile wandered from Kayla to Aggie and landed on Julie.
She tried to read his expression beyond the bland smile and the colorless question, without success. “Yes,” she said tentatively. Did his question have a double meaning? Did he know she’d seen him last night? Ridiculous. “Yes,” she repeated, recovering herself. “The beach is lovely.”
“Fantastic,” he said in the flattest voice she’d ever heard. “Oh, by the way, I heard from Lucky this morning. He said he’s sorry he missed you and he’ll call Louise right away. His phone died and he didn’t have time to get a new one. So no worries, you’re free to continue on to Dewey Beach.”
“Oh, we love it here,” Aggie said. “We’re learning to surf.”
“So much better than fighting the crowds at other beaches,” Kayla said enthusiastically. “But still close enough to visit if we get bored here.”
“Which we won’t,” Aggie said cheerfully. “This is just perfect, isn’t it, Julie?”
Julie narrowed her eyes. Why were they being so chipper? Trying to cheer her up? Or just putting it to the bartender?
“So we’ve decided to stay for our whole vacation,” Aggie continued.
Since when? They hadn’t decided that. Had they?
The bartender turned to Julie with a scowl so intense that, instead of dissuading her as she knew he meant it to do, it just got her back up. She didn’t know why her friends were acting so enthusiastic, but she smiled, shrugged, and said overbrightly, “And you can’t find a better piña colada than at Lucky’s Beach Bar and Grill.”
She heard a muffled growl and looked past him to the bar to see if Dougie was lumbering toward them. But Dougie failed to appear. Julie looked back to Scatter. The growl must have come from the surly bartender.
“So you’ll be seeing a lot more of us,” Kayla said as if someone had just announced Christmas in June.
“Huh.” He suddenly looked tired. Well, who wouldn’t after the night he’d had?
Maybe she should have told her friends what she’d seen in the alley. Of course she might be overthinking the situation. Kayla and Aggie would be the first to point that out. But still, she had a responsibility to her friends. Always prepare for the worst, and you’ll usually be pleasantly surprised. Another gem from her mother.
She was not the type to go looking for trouble. She usually avoided confrontation at all costs. But lately, something was bringing out her most impulsive urges. One of those urges had just tempted her to jettison her security and her future for the unknown. If it hadn’t been for Sara Olins asking her to help with her student mural, Julie would be unemployed instead of on vacation.
“What about him?” Aggie said.
“What?” Julie asked, watching Alex return to the bar. “What him? What are you talking about?”
Aggie gave her a long-suffering sigh. “You and”—she tilted her head toward the bar—“the scrumptiously brooding bartender.”
“I think he knows more about Uncle Lucky than he’s telling.”
Kayla lifted an already perfectly arched eyebrow. “Is this still about Lucky, or do I sense some other reason for this tension between you and the mysterious—”
“It’s about Lucky, period.”
“Dangerous, like a romantic hero,” Aggie intoned. “With an intensity that makes you wonder what he’d—”
“Not me,” Julie said. His intensity was creeping her out. “He’s a beach bum who knows how to pull a beer tap—okay, and makes a mean piña colada, I’ll give him that.”
“Come on, Jules. Even you have to admit he is kind of cute in a rough-and-tumble way. He might be just the distraction you need.”
“Even me?” Julie asked, distracted. “Why even me? I date.”
Kayla rolled her eyes. “You’ll never find someone if you’re always prejudging them.”
She was right. They were both right. Her social life sucked. She went out with men who didn’t challenge her, because she was so busy trying to make her life work that she didn’t have time to make a relationship work. You didn’t need a sabbatical to figure that one out.
Alex/Scatter had been looking their way; actually, she got the feeling he’d been trying to figure her out since the moment they’d met. He’d been totally unhelpful, not to mention he might be a crook. But she had to admit there was something about him . . .
“Ugh.” Julie slumped on her elbows.
“Well, he’s certainly interested in you,” Aggie said. “He keeps looking over here.”
“Maybe he just wants to make sure we enjoyed our lunch,” Kayla said.
“Probably making sure we don’t stiff him with the bill.”
As Julie said it, Scatter looked straight at her. She looked away.
“That’s just what we mean,” said Aggie.
She’d definitely have to tell them about what she saw last night in the alley. But maybe she should talk to him first. “Maybe I’ll go talk to him.”
“Ask him what time he gets off work tonight,” Aggie said. She nudged Kayla and the two of them pushed back their chairs and gathered up their bags.
“Wait. You’re leaving?”
“You can do it. We’ll settle up later. We have every faith in you. Toodles.” They made a beeline for the front door.
Julie gathered up her stuff and took the check over to the bar to pay up. She slipped in between Corey and Ron and placed the check and her credit card on the bar top.
“Hey, Scatter,” said Corey. “Julie here would like to pay her bill.”
On his far side, Ron nodded and winked at Julie and went back to his beer.
Ike just grinned and pulled on his chin beard.
Scatter’s head appeared at the far end of the bar and he walked over to them.
She slid the check and her credit card toward him. He took it without a word and went to the cash register.
All three men were giving the transaction their full attention.
She signed the returned bill and left a tip in cash. “For our . . . other . . . waiter.”
“I’ll see that he gets it,” Scatter said, and slid it over to the side.
She’d meant to wheedle a confession out of him, but he was always insulated by the comedy team of Corey, Ike, and Ron. Or maybe they were hired to run interference. They did seem to be everywhere.
Now you’re just being paranoid, she told herself. “Well, in case you’re wondering, we enjoyed our lunch.”
“I’ll tell the cook.”
“Scat,” Ike said. “What’s wrong with you? If this lovely lady was chatting me up, I’d be on my best behavior.”
“I’m not,” Julie began.
“I don’t think that’s what she’s doing,” said Alex.
“Sure she is,” added Corey.
“Sorry, let me start again.” Scatter smiled at her, flashing white teeth and two rather sharp canines.
Which reminded her. “Where’s Dougie?”
“I don’t know. Around somewhere.”
“He’s probably with—ouch!” Corey shot an accusing look at Ike and reached down and rubbed his leg.
“Anything else?” Alex looked at her pleasantly, vapidly, but she hadn’t missed that one spark of light that might have meant anything . . . or nothing.
“No thanks.” She turned to leave, changed her mind, turned back. “Actually, there is.”
He raised one dark, forbidding eyebrow.
“Why are you so mean?”
Three heads snapped toward her. The bartender’s didn’t move. His expression didn’t change. Three heads snapped back to him.
There was dead silence and Julie got a creepy-crawly feeling up the back of her neck.
“It’s a legitimate question.” She had to force the words out. “It can’t be good for business.”
“Aw, Julie, Scat’s bark is worse than his bite,” said Ron.
“He is a little rough around the edges,” Corey admitted.
“But he’s got a heart of gold,” added Ike. Everybody, including Scatter, stared at him. “You just sometimes have to dig a bit.”
Julie snorted. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” She started to leave.
“You want to know why?” Alex moved slowly until he was leaning over the barrier of the bar.
She nodded. She had to fight the urge to step away.
“Because you cut Lucky off. Didn’t bother to make contact for years. And suddenly you show up out of the blue with your attitude and your demands.”
“He deserted me,” she said feebly.
“Bullshit. He moved the earth to do whatever Louise allowed him to do, which wasn’t much. Dropped everything to be at all your recitals and parties, even when there were people who needed him more.”
His knuckles were white where he gripped the lip of the bar. Corey, Ike, and Ron leaned away, opening like scruffy human flower petals.
“I don’t remember it like that.” Julie wanted to step away, to unhear his words, unfeel the intensity rolling from him across the bar.
“That’s because your memory starts and ends with ‘me.’” He turned away.
Finally, Julie stepped back.
Corey, Ike, and Ron slowly righted themselves on their barstools.
“Anything else?” he asked, without turning around.
She stepped farther back, her mind racing, the thoughts random, her excuses never finding a place to land. “I—” She grabbed at the one question that rose from all the others. “What is your real name?”
“Alex. Alex Martin.” He looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met, his growing almost black. Then he turned away—but not before Julie saw a flash of something so deep, so painful, so profound, that it sucked the breath out of her.
And she reeled as a strange sense of déjà vu enveloped her, only to tumble into a more immediate sense of wariness. And she knew in that moment she would never, ever want to make him really angry.
Alex Martin was not a man to be crossed.