Page 31 of Keepsakes and Kismet

Peyton props her head up with her hand. “I know you have at least one other question in that noggin of yours. Ask it.”

Thank God. I didn’t want to pry, but she’s not wrong. I have a lot of questions, but one sticks out among the rest.

“Do people ever catch on? What would happen if one of your Nutty Nana worshippers caught you yeehawing in Russian at the bar?”

Romy loudly cackles behind her computer.

Peyton huffs. “Fuck off, both of you. It was a perfectly executed boutique Southern accent!”

I wince. “Sorry. It, uh, wasn’t that bad.”

Romy doubles over in laughter. “Oh my God. He’s being so nice to you, Peyton. This is hilarious.”

Peyton shoots Romy a pointed look before focusing on me. “Anyway, to answer your question, being in a small town is actually a huge benefit to us. We’re not easily recognizable anywhere other than Waterton. When we first moved here, we did more local gigs. Now that we’re integrated into the town, we rarely do business in Waterton. We service all of Northwest Ohio, Southeastern Michigan, Northeast Indiana, and I’m open to air travel—if the assignment and pay makes sense. We also accept online bids, like Zoom events.” A mischievous glimmer flashes in her eyes. “How will you pass the time now? I imagine so much of it was devoted to developing conspiracy theories about me.”

It’s my turn to blush—she has me there. “I wouldn’t call them conspiracy theories…”

She crosses her arms. “Oh yeah? What would you call them?”

I clear my throat. “Professional hypotheses.”

“Never go into influencing, Callum. You are a terrible liar.”

Shaking my head, I blow out a breath. “It’s really impressive you created a whole business from scratch. Nowadays, it’s practically impossible to think of anything new, and I’ve never heard of something like this before. Waterton’s lucky to have you.”

“Thank you,” Peyton says softly. “So, um, what’re your plans for the rest of the day?”

I glance down at my clothes. “I know you probably think I live in this uniform at this point, but I do have to work.”

The spark in her eyes dims as the corners of her full lips point down. Is she disappointed? Over me leaving for work?

“Well, mystery solved, Inspector. You know what we do now, so…” She trails off, but her underlying meaning implies this might be it for us. We’ve officially run out of excuses to see each other. The curiosity is quenched. Except… it isn’t. Not for me. I know what she does now, sure. But I still don’t really know her.

My lips droop, and now we wear matching frowns. Something about saying goodbye to Peyton doesn’t feel quite right. Before I can suppress the thought, I consider asking her to hang out again, maybe meet up somewhere. Then I shake my head, releasing the idea from my mind. What am I thinking?

Peyton and I stare at each other wordlessly in some sort of a blink-off. I’m not sure either of us know what to say. I have zero experience with making adult connections, so I’m not about to break the silence.

“This doesn’t have to be goodbye.” Romy’s voice pops up from across the room.

The question “What do you mean?” flies out of my mouth at an embarrassing speed. I’d blush, but when I glance at Peyton, she’s nodding along, like she wants to know, too.

“Well, we do need someone—a man, specifically—for Eaglewood’s golf club invitation.”

“Romy…” Peyton’s tone comes out low and cautionary.

“I’m just saying! Callum is a man. You two already know each other.”

Peyton pales and ducks her head. I wonder if she dislikes the idea of the event or the idea of attending the event with me. When our eyes meet, hers hold a shyness I haven’t seen from her yet.

“He wouldn’t want that, anyway. He doesn’t like that sort of thing,” she mumbles.

I think I might like it with you.

“Maybe we should let him answer for himself,” Romy presses. “Cal?”

“I can go,” I say slowly.

I want to, even.