Page 113 of One Big Little Secret

“You always have a choice, Salem. No gun to your head, I promise.”

“So what happens if I say no?”

“Nothing.” I shrug indifferently, like I’m not half hoping she does when I’d deserve every bit of it. “I’m asking for a favor. You turn me down, fine. We’ll still go to the conference, work the crowds, and take in plenty of big speeches. You’ll walk away knowing ten times more than you did before you came here.”

“A favor as my boss. Right.”

“As afriend.I’m coming to you because there’s no one else I could ask to put on a show like this.”

There’s no gold in her eyes now. They’re so walnut dark I can’t see any other color at all. They bring out the flush on her cheeks, though.

“As a friend,” she repeats numbly.

“Remember how well we played it up at the casino years ago? I saved you with a play like this years ago. That was a hell of a night.”

“Hellis right,” she mutters under her breath.

I cock my head and stare at her.

“Dude, it’s just… I didn’tneedyou to save me,” she flares, then stops, suddenly regretful. “I did appreciate it, though. I’ll give you that.”

“I don’t need an answer right away. I just thought it might help us both to figure this out sooner.”

The idea that any connection to me might help her career clearly upsets her.

I’m not expecting it when she holds out her hand.

“You know what? Fine. For thisconferenceonly, I’ll be your girl. After this, we’re even.”

“Even Steven. Conference only. Deal.” I shake her hand.

“No hanky-panky, obviously.”

“Fuck no.”

Liar.

“And you’ll take me out for a nice dinner or two. I’ve never dreamed of eating at a Michelin star place before this weekend, but this place has one. I’d love to experience it just once.”

“Done. Bring your appetite and a dictionary for the most pretentiously named food in existence.” I give her a mock bow.

She laughs, eyeing me suspiciously like she can read what’s really on my mind, but then she nods and turns back to the window.

“Let’s go exploring while we can,” she says. “If we’re going to be here, I might as well see what’s out there.”

The answer is a whole lot of nothing beyond the resort’s landscaped gardens and flawless stone walking paths.

I’ve never been one for endless desert landscapes, but Salem doesn’t seem to mind the alien desolation compared to our Missouri home. In fact, as we wander around the large complex, taking in the scenery, she gasps with new discoveries.

We’re near the resort’s giant infinity pool when she goes off again.

“This is humongous,” she whispers, absently sliding a hand through my arm. “Look at the pool chairs, Patton.”

They’re nice, these freakishly ergonomic modern chairs, probably built to push your spine back into place without needing a chiro.

“I thought you’d like it here,” I tell her.

“It’s heaven.” She kicks off her shoes and sprawls across a white lounger, tipping her head back into the evening sun. “Maybe I didn’t bring a bikini, but nothing will stop me from a little sunbathing.”

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