Page 102 of Family Bonds- Kelsey & Van

She laughed and watched as Van grabbed their overnight bag and she got out of her SUV with Frankie and set him on the ground.

“It’s someone a company hires to send into a store and be a customer and then report back how well the employees did.”

“But I’m not hiring anyone,” he said. “I’m doing it myself.”

“Which is why I said it’salmostlike being a mystery shopper,” she said, crossing her eyes.

He shook his head. “Don’t do that. You look silly.”

“That is the point. It’s to get you to laugh and stop being so serious all the time.”

“Let’s just enjoy the night,” he said.

It was almost six. She’d gotten out of work early, went home and packed for their overnight at one of her father and Van’s hotels. She’d been to them all at some point or another but never had a reason to stay at them.

Van hadn’t been to this one yet. The furthest from the port. Close to an hour away in Chatham. The smallest of the hotels and had the least amount of issues.

She wasn’t sure why he was doing this, but it was his business.

“Are we going to do anything while we’re here?” she asked. “Or just get some dinner. I mean it’s dark already so not much to do and then we’ve got to check out by ten tomorrow. Not sure what you hope to accomplish.”

“I want to see the running of one of the hotels. I’ve been to the other two. They know my face and someone might recognize me. What’s the big deal?” he asked. “I could have come alone.”

“No way,” she said. “I’m not giving up one of the few nights we can do things together.”

He frowned at her. “We do things together all the time during the week.”

“We have dinner and sex and go to sleep,” she corrected. “That isn’t doing things.”

“What is it you want to do?” he asked. “We’ve gone to lighthouses, went on a motorcycle ride and even took the ferry to a dog park. Let’s not forget the hours of you analyzing financial reports for me. That isn’t sleeping, food or sex.”

She pursed her lips. “I guess when you put it that way, we do things.”

“Maybe you are high maintenance and you’ve been just hiding it from me.”

“Ha ha,” she said. “I’m really not. How many high-maintenance women look like this and are carrying doggie poop bags in with their makeup kit?”

He looked at her in her light-colored baggy jeans. She didn’t want to put anything fancy or new on. The jeans almost brushed the ground with her sneakers on her feet, but she didn’t care. They weren’t going to be here long. Barely twelve hours.

Maybe she should have gotten out of work earlier, but she got held up doing something and was lucky to get out when she had.

She couldn’t even tell her mother what she was doing because, as Van had told her more than once, he didn’t want her father to know.

She didn’t understand that, but it wasn’t her business either.

“If you were carrying Frankie in your purse, I’d think you were full of shit making that comment.”

“Never,” she said. “Not this purse. My backpack, sure, but even then he’s getting a little too big for it. I hope he doesn’t leave a mess in here. I don’t want the owner pissed at me.”

Van shut one eye at her. “You’ll clean it up and be fine.”

“What name did you put the reservation under?” she asked.

“Mine,” he said. “Whose did you think I put it under?”

“Well, they’d know my name, but you’d need my card for that. I just wondered if they’d recognize your name.”

“We’ll find out,” he said. “I don’t think so. My suspicions are that Christian isn’t saying much about me.”

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