Page 85 of Time Stops With You

My stomach grumbles in displeasure.

Jenna frowns. “Isn’t that the woman from earlier?”

I pull on the handle of her door.

“You wanted to eat Nardi’s food?” Jenna sounds dumbfounded. “That’s where you wanted to take me?”

Why does she think I wanted to take her? I simply accepted a ride. “See you Monday.”

Jenna pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “It looks like she’s all out. I can take you somewhere else.”

I climb out of the car without acknowledging the offer.

Nardi has her back to me as she carries light items over to her car. The vehicle’s parked in an abandoned parking lot just behind her stall. Josiah’s helping her with the heavier items, balancing a giant pot in his hands.

A man with unkept hair, dirty jeans, and a torn T-shirt spots me and shakes his head. “Sorry, mister. They’re all out. You and your girlfriend will have to come earlier next time.”

Girlfriend?

At first, I assume the man is high on drugs or seeing ghosts because I’m definitely alone. But then I hear a door slam and Jenna hustles to the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?” I frown.

She shrugs and smiles, avoiding the question.

At that moment, Nardi swings around and spots the two of us standing side by side in front of her food stall. A flurry of emotions pass over her face. The first is surprise, the second is annoyance, the third is so fleeting that I can’t tell what it is. But finally, her plush lips settle into a scowl and I know she’s on a path of vengeance.

Josiah returns to the food stall as well, but his reception is much warmer than his sister’s. “Cullen!”

“Mr.Cullen,” Nardi corrects. “Have some manners.”

“He can call me Cullen.” I nod at him. “It’s fine.”

She purses her lips. “In Belize, we call people by ‘mister’ and ‘miss’. So that’s what he’ll say.”

“Whoa, no need to get all aggressive,” Jenna says, laughter in her voice.

Nardi slams her hands on her hips. Her neck stretches back and forth as she looks Jenna up and down. “Did you just call me aggressive?”

Oh, boy. I barely survived when I told Nardi she lacks emotional regulation.

To de-escalate the situation, I step in front of Jenna, hiding her from view. She’s getting on Nardi’s nerves and honestly, I’m a little annoyed that she even got out of her car. Better to pretend she doesn’t exist.

“Since I cooked for you, I came to have the favor returned,” I say in a light tone.

Nardi flares her nostrils. There’s no missing the hard edge to her frown, and yet, I see hurt crystalize in her eyes. She swivels away from us both and starts to untie the tent from the cement blocks holding it down.

Watching her jagged movements, I get the sense that I did something wrong, but for the life of me I don’t know what happened. Why do I keep pissing her off? Does the fact that I’m breathing annoy her?

At least she won’t be annoyed for long.

Josiah’s eyes dart from me to his sister.

Even the homeless man is watching everything intently.

Nardi dismissed us and is now focused on taking down her tent, but I don’t want to go. The same tug I felt when I first entered her apartment washes over me again. The thought of returning to my quiet tomb of a home makes me fumble for something to stay.

But I don’t have much practice rescuing a conversation that’s headed off the rails. In most cases, I’m the one wishing for the conversation to end while the person rambles on and on in hopes of igniting my interest.

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