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Clement stares at me then. It’s like he’s figuring something out. His brain is turning over...
Fuck. The mask has slipped.
Have I shown my hand? Have I revealed too much?
Needing to do something – anything – I simply start to laugh.
And so does Clement.
“Jolie and you hated each other, didn’t you?” he asks me.
“Hate’s a strong word.”
“But that’s what it was, right?”
“You could put it like that,” I reply.
“She’s having her own love life problems as well,” Clement says. “Look, I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but she’s only been on a few dates in her life.”
“And how do you know?” I ask.
“I like to keep tabs on my sister,” Clement explains. “Nothing serious. Just enough to make sure she’s okay.”
“And do you have anything to worry about?”
“No,” Clement replies, chuckling to himself. “She’ll eviscerate any man not worth her high standards, and that seems to be all the men on this planet.”
“That sounds like her.”
“She is an Auclair. Like me, she’s a tough cookie.”
“Yes, she is.”
Talking about her is making me so uneasy, but I try my best to keep that concealing civility up.
“Whatever it is that the Castaways give you,” Clement says, “get it done quickly. Swallow whatever pain it brings you. The sooner you are part of the Castaways, the sooner you’re let into the investigation into the Masked Killer. The sooner we get this son of a bitch.”
“I know.”
“So just do whatever it is they tell you to do.”
Even fuck your sister, Clement?
His phone dings with a notification. He checks it.
“Speaking of the devil,” he says, “that’s Jolie. She needs me back at the office.”
Fuck me. I can’t escape her, can I?
My best friend gets up from the table.
“I’ll pay for this as I leave,” he says. “My treat.”
“Thanks.”
He pats me on the back.
Then he laughs again.
