Page 65 of Shadow Dance

With a tired sigh, I get up and walk over to the bookshelf where Wolf keeps his weed. Grabbing a pack of papers and a glass jar of green nuggets, I drop onto the couch and roll myself a nice, fat joint. Drug use, even weed, is supposed to be a “only-if-you-have-to” concession of this job, but this shit is stressful.

An image of Maeve comes to mind, the way she looked as we drove home from her class the other day. She was telling me how much she liked my dimple, which I explained was a scar. She said she knew, but that she loved it all the same. She was teasing me, but being real too, and I knew right then that I was in trouble.

Because I’m falling for her. Like, for real. It’s risky and dumb, but I feel it more with every secret look and covert hook-up. I don’t knowwhat I was thinking, giving in to this attraction. Maybe I wasn’t thinking at all. I wish I could write this thing with Maeve off as a stress response, a way to alleviate some of the uncertainty we deal with. Like the weed.

But she’s not.

Maeve has gotten under my skin in a way I never expected, and I’m not sure I have the strength to fight it anymore. The lines between personal and professional blur more and more every day. What happens if I let myself cross them completely?

Chapter 18

Maeve

“Should I bring this one?” Callum asks.

I look up from my phone. It’s the day before Thanksgiving, and we’re heading to Marin County to spend the holiday weekend at Uncle Dario’s estate. I’m already packed, but Callum procrastinated and now he’s holding up a black Armani dress shirt and shaking it impatiently. “I prefer the gray Chambray.”

He tucks the black shirt in his garment bag, but goes to the closet, returning with the gray shirt as well.

I resume texting Bria, who I’ve been venting to all morning. I’ve gotten a lot realer with her about Callum lately. She doesn’t know all the details or how bad it’s gotten, partly because I don’t want her telling Lucky, but she knows I’m leaving as soon as I can. For so long I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to hear that I’d been wrong. I was embarrassed—ashamed, even. How could I be so blind? Most of the friendships in my life had always been really healthy and nourishing, like Bria, Delphine, and Portia. So how did I choose wrong when it came to this relationship, and why have I put up with it for such a long time?

But the second I admitted to her that things with Callum had finally cracked to the point of no repair and that I wanted to come home, she was the same loving, non-judgmental best friend she’s always been. She didn’t say “I told you so.” She just said, “We miss you.”

The whole family is going to be there, too

It’s bad dealing with Dario but now I have to see C’s mom

and everybody else.

Yikes. It’s only til Saturday, right?

Bring a flask and sip liberally, Delphine-style.

lol.

Wish I was at the cottage with you guys, drinking Prosecco Rosé ;)

You’ll be here next year

We’ll drink a whole bottle to ourselves.

Maybe 2.

“All right, let’s go,” Callum says briskly, tossing a stick of spearmint chewing gum into his mouth. He chews it like crazy when he’s nervous or when he can’t use. Dario doesn’t approve of drugs, even though his empire is built on them, so Callum has to behave himself for the next few days.

Rising from the bed, I shoulder my bag and follow him out of the house. Jaime strides out to his car a minute later, his gaze finding mine. The knot in my stomach tightens. If I can’t spend Thanksgiving with my family, I wish more than anything that I could spend it with him.

I don’t know why I’m letting myself get so attached. It’s foolish, and it will only end in heartbreak. I finally told Jaime, during our most recent hike, that Callum wouldn’t take no for an answer the other night. I’ve never been afraid of Jaime, but the look on his face right then scared me. He looked like he wanted to kill Callum, and the silence that ensued over the next few minutes was nearly unbearable.

Did he think I was being dishonest? That I’d gone into it willingly? Or that I was stupid for staying despite what had happened? But then he slid his fingers through mine and asked if I was okay.

“I am now, but I wasn’t.”

“I wish you’d told me before, but I get why you didn’t,” he said, squeezing my fingers. “Do you trust me?”

“You’re theonlyperson out here I can trust.”

“Then just wait a little longer. I’ll get you out of here.”

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