Page 168 of The Bluffing Game

“In your dreams, Dalton.”

“How did you know?”

“Because I can read your mind.” She shrugs and then looks out of the window. “It’s so pretty here. One of the prettiest towns I’ve ever been in.” There’s a wistful tone to her voice as we pass by one of the main shopping areas in Santa Capinari.

There are twinkling fairy lights illuminating the cute storefronts, and a young family is walking their golden retriever down the street.

“I love dogs,” she says as she notices them as well. “Do you and Toby have one?”

“We do not, but I’m sure he wishes we did.” I smile to myself, thinking about how excited Toby would be if we got a dog, not that it would happen anytime soon. The house is already a hot mess, without any pets. “Maybe one day.”

“He’s a cute kid. Also, thanks for helping me tonight. I’m sure you would rather be with your son.” She sounds sincere, and I’m touched by her comment.

We just spent the entire evening going back and forth, and yet she is still thoughtful about my son. That means a lot to me.

“Thanks. He’s occupied tonight, so I have time.”

I make a left, and we make our way away from the beach and toward her apartment. The houses gradually grow smaller, the landscaping is less pristine, and the driveways shorter. Finally, we cross the line from Santa Capinari into the next city, passing the Thanks for Visiting sign, and Sage gasps.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her, wondering why she looks so agitated.

“That sign said Thanks for Visiting Santa Capinari.”

“Indeed, it did.”

“But we haven’t reached my apartment yet. I didn’t see that sign when I drove past the building before.”

“Did you follow GPS or Sal’s directions?”

“Sal said to use his directions because GPS doesn’t always get the directions right.”

“Sal gave you directions that won’t take you past that sign for a reason. I’m afraid you don’t live in Santa Capinari. Not to be rude, but there’s no way you thought that your place was in⁠—”

“I did,” she bellows. “I moved here to live in Santa Capinari.”

“The residents of the city would no way allow a broken-down, drug-infested apartment complex in our city. Far too many Karens and Kens who live there for that. And frankly, I’m glad. That place is an eyesore.”

“So, you’re familiar with it?”

“Yes. I know Sal, and I know his buildings.” I don’t go into details.

I turn down another dark street until, finally, I’m pulling into her parking lot. There’s an old, rusted red Ford pickup truck parked right next to where I stop, and I notice two skinny dudes in white tank tops sitting on the hood, drinking beers. Country music plays from the radio, and they both eye me as I get out of the car.

The guy with the long, stringy blond hair calls out to me, “Nice Mercedes, bruh.” He chugs down his Coors and turns to his friend. “Pity if that beauty got scratched up, huh?”

“It’d be a pity,” his friend says.

Then his eyes widen, and he lets out a low whistle as Sage gets out of the car and heads over to me.

“Now, she’s a beauty,” Stringy-Hair Guy says to Whistler.

“Wouldn’t mind her with some mac and cheese.” Whistler looks Sage up and down. “What’s your name, sexy mamacita?”

“Sorry, what?” Sage answers them, and I look at her in disbelief.

“What are you doing?” I hiss at her.

I’m grateful to see Roman pull in and park next to me. I don’t want to have to take these guys on alone, even though I’m more than capable of handling them myself.