Page 46 of At First Catch

Miguel heads back toward the western slips, leaving me alone with entirely too much awareness pressing beneath my ribs.

I look out across the marina again and picture Hadley standing there from earlier.

Sunlight catching in her hair. Clipboard tucked against her chest. Giggling as I tease her about zoning restrictions.

Christ. I barely survived that musical sound.

This morning, she’d already handed Walter another cup of coffee before he asked. She thanked three volunteers by name. Paused to ask Miguel’s daughter how her softball tournament went. Noticed the new carpenter limping before anyone else did.

She moves through people the way some folks move through familiar rooms. Like paying attention is simply second nature.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Hope flashes through me before I can stop it.

Pathetic.

I pull it out anyway.

It’s not Hadley, but Holt.

Holt

Mom says you’re coming to dinner tonight.

I stare at the message.

Then type back.

Me

Your mother invited herself into my schedule?

Holt

Correct.

Me

Is saying no an option?

Holt

Technically yes. Emotionally no.

A snort escapes me.

That sounds exactly right.

Over the past six months, I’ve learned the Wright family operates less like a normal family unit and more like a coordinated emotional ambush.

One minute someone offers you pie.

The next thing you know, you’re being absorbed into Sunday dinners against your will.

Me

I have work.

Holt