Page 180 of A Matter of Time

“You heard me.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah.”

“Define that.”

“I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” I said, watching them smile into each other’s eyes. “Awww.”

“So you’re saying if the blind date goes bad, this guy—what’s his name?”

“Kai.” I put the binoculars down, unsure for a minute what the better course of action was. Should I let my ankle bear my weight for the second it would take to hop down, or use the one I normally didn’t, let it be awkward for a second, and hope I didn’t lose my balance or something overcompensating.

“What are you doing now?”

I glanced down, he glanced up, and I was suddenly caught in the dark scowl. He appeared really annoyed. “Could you move a little? I need to get off this.”

He reached for me. “Lemme help you.”

“No, thanks.” I waved him back. “Just move.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket, taking a step away from me. “So, seriously, this guy Kai gets to what, fuck you or do whatever the hell he wants to you?”

“Yeah.” I winced, letting my ankle hold me for a second, stepping down onto my good one. “Shit.”

“And you’ll let him?”

I cracked a grin. “It’s just my ass, man. I’ve done worse for less,” I assured him before I limped away, ducking between stalls, poking my head around the caramel corn and the hand-dipped candy apples before leaning out from under the overhang to check on them as they stopped to get some bottled water. I was hoping I’d lost him.

“For crissakes, Jory, you⁠—”

“God, why are you here?” I almost whined, turning to look up into his face.

His eyes narrowed. “I’m here with Dom and his girl, Lily, and Maggie.”

“Well, I’m sure they’re waitin’ on ya,” I said flatly, hoping my dismissive tone would prompt him to leave.

I watched his jaw clench. “You know, you⁠—”

My hand came up to cut him off as I reached into the breast pocket of my trench and pulled out my phone. I dialed and turned away from him to return to my spying. She answered on the second ring.

“Mother Goose.”

“What?”

“I thought we should have code names,” Dylan apprised me. “Since we’re undercover and all.”

My friends were all crazy. “Where are you?”

“I’m getting honey-and-powdered-sugar fry bread. Where are you?”

“You’re eating again?”

“That was very judgmental,” she informed me. “And I would remind you that we’re at the pier. What the hell else do you do here?”