Page 47 of Shadow Dance

“Sorry,” he says,following me into the bedroom. “I’m tired and I thought I’d have the day off, but my uncle needs me to pick up something down in San Diego.”

“That sucks,” I commiserate, tugging the bedsheets into submission. San Diego isn’t exactly a hop, skip, and a jump away.

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Check the walk-in,” I say. “Your keys might’ve fallen out of your pants or something.”

Sure enough, he finds them near the hamper in the closet. “Be back by tonight, promise.”

I doubt that, but it’s cool. It’s nice to have the house to myself, a true lazy day. I watch TV for a while, flipping through wildlife documentaries and cooking shows before settling on a Netflix series I started months ago but never finished.

By the time that’s over, the day’s starting to go dim and I’m bored. I turn off the television and root around the kitchen, wondering if I should make dinner or order in. But then the soft glow of the pool catches my eye through the window above the sink. The day’s last light reflects over its glassy surface, tempting me to get in. Callum goes for night swims all the time, but I’m not too crazy about it, not when his friends are always around. That’s not an issue tonight, though.

Making sure the pool heater is on, I change into a swimsuit and grab a towel. The autumn air is crisp and cold, but the water is balmy. I swim aimlessly for a while and then I just float, gazing at the stars emerging from the fading, lilac sky. It’s beautiful. I’m dreading the moment I’ll have to leave my warm cocoon when I sense movement in my peripheral vision. I let my eyes drift to the guest house windows. The shadowy reflection of trees on the glass makes it hard to see, but Jaime is standing on the other side, watching me.

I close my eyes, pretending I don’t see him. It’s his job to watch me, although there’s a stark difference between keeping me safe and creeping on me in a bikini. A cold breeze skitters over the water, pebbling my skin.Watch me all you want, bodyguard.

When the wind begins picking up, and my fingers and toes feel like prunes, I force myself out of the pool and into my towel. Giving myself a brisk rubdown, I walk over to Jaime’s and knock on the door.

He answers after a second, taking in my towel-clad form with a raised eyebrow. “Kind of late in the year to go swimming. Aren’t you cold?”

“Why are you always worried about me being cold?”

“It’s like forty degrees right now and you’re soaking wet.”

“Well, then aren’t you going to let me in?”

“If that’s what you want,” he says, standing aside with an amused smile.

I brush by, shivering as the warmth hits my goosebumpy skin.

“What’s up?” Jaime leans against the wall, folding his arms. “Is everything okay?”

“Why do you always ask me that?” I laugh. “Can’t I talk to you just because?”

“You can, but you usually have an agenda,” he says.

“I do?” I ask, looking around. The TV is on, though muted. His laptop is on the countertop, open, beside a bottle of beer, a half-eaten apple, and a jar of almonds. “What happened to that fruit you bought at Berkeley Bowl? The one you said you’d let me try?”

“I ate it,” he says.

“But you said you got one for me.”

He watches as I approach him, his expression going from relaxed to curious to cautious in seconds. “I didn’t think Cal would appreciate it.”

“Appreciate me eating fancy, tropical fruit?”

“Appreciate me giving you things.”

I stop a few inches away from him, my heart a strong, steady drumbeat. “What was it called again?”

“Guanábana.” He shifts from one foot to the other. “Did you need something, Maeve?”

“Don’t act like you weren’t watching me swim just now.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, but he doesn’t confirm or deny. Not that I need him to. I know what I saw.

“I liked it,” I whisper.

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