Page 5 of 6 Clues Your Nemesis Loves You

I’m not exactly hurting for cash. Des and I both received a chunk of WITSEC money Mom saved for us, the portion intended for schooling. Since I didn’t go the academic route, I invested the money. Used the interest to build Littlewing Adventures and plan this expansion with Des—the adult component of our business, Bigwing Adventures. We’ve purchased the land for our home base and have huge plans. I’m excited to see where we can take this venture. But I refuse to touch the principal of my cash, even for rent. As far as I’m concerned, that’s dirty money, and I want no part of it.

With today’s business talk settled, I lean back in my chair and sip my green tea, enjoying another aspect of Windfall—Delilah’s bakery café, Sugar and Sips. How could you not love the decorated chalkboard menus, happy pastel colors, and whimsical artwork on the walls? Plus, some members of my family are fixtures here.

E’s at a table in the corner, hunched over his computer, working intently. He claims the shop’s relaxing buzz is more inspiring than the quiet of Delilah’s and his upstairs apartment. Considering he illustrates incredibly successful graphic novels, I should be inclined to believe him. But I know better. After spending a decade away from his first love, he works here to be close to Delilah.

The woman in question wipes down the table beside ours, then tosses her dirty cloth at Desmond’s face.

He catches it with one hand. “If you want to surprise attack me, you’ll have to do better than that.”

“You’re right.” She sighs. “Your athletic prowess is simply too impressive.”

As is Delilah’s condescending sarcasm, but she glances at me and mouths Trip wire. Hell yeah. We’re going to have fun booby-trapping my house and inviting Desmond over. It really is a killer property.

She knocks my shoulder. “I got a new tea in stock. Special brand of organic green tea from a small farm in Sri Lanka. Very obscure. Totally hipster-approved.”

I glower at her. Desmond snickers.

Whatever. There’s no fighting Delilah when she’s on a roll.

Pleased with her efforts to annoy me, she snatches her cloth back from Desmond and moves along to wipe another table.

I nudge Des’s foot under the table. “The ropes course will be tricky. It’s tough finding builders not slammed with other work.”

He cracks his knuckles. “I’ve already sourced someone.”

“Seriously?” For a guy who earned a PhD in wasting his life, Desmond’s efforts with our business still surprise me.

He kicks back in his chair. “Remember Ricky? E’s buddy in high school—fronted that band the Tweeds?”

I nod, thinking back to those carefree days. I wasn’t what you’d call a studious kid. Or organized. Or focused. I pulled enough pranks to give Principal Osorio early gray hairs. I flunked a couple of classes and did an extra year of high school, working part time at the Smash Shack—Windfall’s famed burger joint—while friends like Mizhir went off to college. That was also the year of Maggie and our secret pond, and I checked out the Tweeds with E often. My dad and I fished together and hung out most weekends too. I helped him around the property, patching up the perimeter fence, going for drives to gather supplies. We laughed at Mom’s horrible crafting skills and talked about movies and sports and which fishing lures were the best.

After our outings, I’d always think, Damn, I’m lucky to have such a great dad.

Once again, ha-ha-ha. Joke was on me.

I rub my chest, attempting to soothe the ache that’s settled there since moving back to Windfall.

“If Ricky’s into it,” I tell Desmond, veering back to the task at hand, “lock him down. Once the forms are filled out and we have our permits, we need to start ASAP.”

He nods as his phone rings. The second he looks at the screen, his face—no joke—lights up. “Hey, honey. No, no. It’s fine. Just at Sugar and Sips with Lennon.”

He leaves the table to talk to Sadie in private. Delilah is now sitting with E in his back corner, the two of them whispering close. He takes her hand and kisses her fingers. She leans forward and noses his neck.

Another pang hits my chest.

These lovey-dovey scenes aren’t so different from my pre-WITSEC life. E had been obsessed with Delilah since the day we moved to Windfall, and Des and Sadie were a fixture for years. I’m not surprised my brothers have rekindled their old romances. What does surprise me is how envious I am. With my history, I should be used to feeling alone.

I drag my attention away from Delilah and E’s PDA and see a white woman staring at me. She has a pointy face and an eighties-style perm and doesn’t look away when I catch her ogling me. I raise my eyebrow. She stares harder. I give her my best stink eye. She doesn’t blink.

I get that this town is small and everyone is in everyone else’s business, but common decency dictates that when you’re caught staring, you have to look away. Not this permed lady.

The bell above the front door jingles.

I break our stare-off and glance at the entrance. My limbs lock.

Maggie Edelstein.

I haven’t seen her since I stalked away from her ignore-Lennon face at Duke’s Market. Three blissful, Maggie-free days. Although that’s not entirely accurate. I’ve thought about her so often since then—the lip-biting conundrum, specifically—it’s like she has a front-row seat in my brain.