Page 117 of Deep Tide

She whirled around to see her brother standing in the doorway.

“Hey.” She rushed over and gave him a hug. Joel looked tanner and more serious than when she’d last seen him. He was dressed in his typical work clothes, right down to the badge and gun. “Back to work already?”

“Yeah. How are you?”

“Busy. You want to give me a hand?”

She went back to the front and grabbed a load of creamers. She passed them off to Joel and then pulled out a bin of walnut chicken salad and a plastic squeeze bottle of chipotle mayo.

She returned to the kitchen and handed everything to Rogelio.

“What is it? The compressor?” Joel asked.

“I think so. I need to call the guy out. Dang it.” She was already running late with a giant cupcake order.

Joel was watching her with a look she knew well.

“How was the honeymoon?” she asked brightly.

“Good. You have a minute to talk?”

“Not right now.”

“Take a break.”

“I have to help Rachel unload the fridge.”

Rachel walked in with an armload of milks and creamers. “I can handle it.”

Joel took Leyla by the elbow and steered her out of the kitchen into the empty seafood restaurant, where staffers were rolling silver and laying out glassware. He guided her to a crescent-shaped booth.

“Sit.”

She sat, thoroughly annoyed, and he slid in behind her.

“Joel, I really can’t talk right now. I’ve got—”

He covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry about Amelia.”

Tears sprang into her eyes.

“How are you doing with everything?”

She pulled her hand away. “Fine.”

He just looked at her.

“Better than last week.” She blinked her tears back and looked away. She hadn’t expected this conversation right now. They’d been through this already when he called her from Costa Rica last Sunday after he heard the news.

She took a deep breath. “We’re doing all right. Everyone’s holding it together. Siena’s been amazing, as usual.” She forced a smile. “What about you? How was Costa Rica?”

“I’m worried about you,” he said, swatting away her attempt to change the subject.

“Well, don’t be.”

“Mom said you’re having trouble sleeping.”

Leyla sighed. She knew she should have omitted that detail when she stopped by her mother’s house the other day. But her mom had asked point-blank how she was sleeping, and Leyla hadn’t been able to lie to her.

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