Page 15 of The Enemy Face Off

"Are you able to affo?—"

"It's not that far. It's fine." Her eyes flick briefly to me then back to Beth. "I'll leave you two to it."

That's the second time she's said that.

Beth makes a noise like she's annoyed at her friend for bailing, or maybe, if I'm reading between the lines, she could be annoyed at something else.

Yeah, being stuck alone with you, doofus.

Amiel gives a small wave before climbing into the SUV.

"Text me when you get home," Beth shouts before the door closes.

"I will!"

Amiel takes off.

Beth looks between her car and my rental, then swings her gaze to meet mine. I brace for an incoming onslaught of howthis is somehow my fault because I slammed on my brakes too suddenly or one of my tail lights is out.

But instead, she speaks in a calm voice. "I'm sorry. This accident is my fault. Let's exchange insurance details."

"Um, okay…"

She narrows her eyes. "Why aren't you moving?"

"I'm waiting for the punchline. The jab. The gotcha moment."

"In that case, you'll be waiting a while. I'm an adult, and I can admit fault when I'm to blame for something. I ran into you because my stupid shoe was bugging me." She waves it in front of me. "The clasp was stuck, I got distracted, and here we are."

"And to think, I had it in my head you were a real-life Cinderella."

What is the matter with me? Why am I sayingallthe wrong things to her tonight?

The faintest glimmer of a smile appears on her face. "I've been called a lot of things, but never Cinderella."

Headlights beam in the distance, and I can see a car approaching. Due to the road construction, there's only one lane open, and our cars are currently blocking it.

"Are you okay to drive?" I ask.

"I am."

"In that case, let's meet at the diner to exchange insurance information." She opens her mouth—safe to say, it's probably to object—so I throw in, "Don't worry, I'll have you back before midnight."

Fifteen minutes later, we're seated in a booth at Bear's diner. He doesn't say or smile a lot. I like him.

It crossed my mind as I was pulling up, that Beth and I might look a little out of place in a Marie Antoinette and Renaissance poet's costume. But when we stepped inside, we found half of Comfort Bay, fresh from Fraser's party, stopping by on their way home. The place is filled with all sorts of historic characters, getting served by Bear wearing a flannel shirt and backward baseball cap.

Beth takes a sip of her strawberry milkshake then asks, "So, why are you in an extra salty mood tonight?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Why are you answering a question with a question?"

I cut my slice of boysenberry pie in half and slide my plate toward the middle of the table. "Want some?"

"No, thanks."

"I'll get you another fork."

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