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“Great. Brilliant, Jack. I’ll watch calmly as you flirt with death. Sounds like fun.”
I grin and pull up Craigslist on my phone. The weird ad is listed under ‘jobs’ in the ‘etc./misc.’ subcategory.
Well, it’s miscellaneous, all right.
To: Job posting 680765f
From: stuntdevil92 @ gmail.com
Re: photos
Okay, first things first. I am a nice guy. I am on a relaxing beach vacation and don’t need to make extra money because I have enough money. Not a ton of money, don’t get the wrong idea. I mean enough to live how I want to live and do what I want, and that’s enough. I’m only replying to your ad because my older brother told me to. His wife is family to me, too, and she made the same suggestion, so here we are. I will pose for photos, but my smile is crooked. And I’m only doing it, so you don’t have to deal with creeps. Because, by the way, they’re out there. So, tell me where to show up, and I’ll be there.
I don’t sign the message. There is no way I’m giving my personal info to some random person on Craigslist.
For all I know, this is a scam.
If I get a reply message requesting my birthdate and social security number, I will wrestle my brother to the ground the next time I see him.
“Done?” Corinne asks.
“Done. If this is a big pain in the butt, you guys owe me.”
“We already owe you. This is our way of paying you back. Come on, how fun is this? You get to meet a woman, do her a favor, and win some good karma. It’s bound to earn you some points with her, too… who knows? She’s here alone, you’re here alone…”
“Corinne, I swear—if you and Brett think you have to set me up just ‘cause of the Jess thing, you have it wrong. I’m fine.”
I’m not fine.
Corinne knows it, too.
She started dating Brett when they were sixteen, and they were best friends before that. She practically lived at my house when I was a kid. We’re like siblings; she can see straight past my tough-guy act.
“You wasted years on Jess,” she says. “She robbed you of time you should have spent finding a wife. And now you’re alone, and?—”
My phone chimes.
Good.
I don’t need her pity. The noise cut her off.
Corinne’s eyes widen. “Is it her?”
I open the message, then nod. “Yeah… it is. Dang. This is happening.” When I glance up, it’s to scan the pool area. “She asked if I could meet her in the hot tub in ten minutes.”
I don’t see a hot tub.
As my eyes pass over the row of lounge chairs across from me, I can’t help but watch the woman in black stretch her arms up. She’s even cute when she yawns. I bet she’s here with a husband and maybe a few kids.
I have to force my eyes off her to keep looking for steam.
“Hot tub…” I mumble. “Oh, shoot. Okay, there it is.”
The hot tub’s teaming with guests.
They’re packed in like sardines.
In ten minutes, I’m going to have to pile in and make painful small talk with some eccentric, desperate woman.
