Page 98 of The Rehoboth Retreat
“Don’t,” he practically commanded.
“What? I’m helping.”
“No, you’re pretending to help while making innuendos.”
“That’s growth, baby,” I replied.
“Mmm,” he said flatly, not even turning around.
I wiped the last water-glossed plate and set it neatly on the drying rack beside him, then leaned my back against the counter like I had something important to say. Which, for once, I actually did.
“So,” I said slowly, arms folded. “Wanna go off script again?”
He didn’t turn. Just kept rinsing silverware like it was his last mission before retirement.
“Miles?”
A beat.
Then he looked over his shoulder, soap bubbles trailing down his wrist like a goddamn cleaning product commercial. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, it’s your last night in this Rehoboth fantasy you meticulously constructed. Why not end it with a bang?”
He dried his hands, narrowed his eyes, and gave me a look that could sterilize cutlery. “What are you suggesting?”
I smirked.
“Diego’s.”
The kitchen went silent.
Not quiet.Silent.
Like the air just collectively sucked its breath back in and screamed,YOU DID NOT JUST SAY THAT.
Miles blinked. Then he tilted his head like a confused flamingo. “You want me to go toDiego’s?”
“Yup,” I nodded.
“The gay nightclub?”
“Yup,” I nodded again, but with more force this time.
“ThatDiego’s?
“The very one.”
He juststaredat me.
Then he put the dishrag down with the caution of a bomb technician.
“Hudson. Be serious.”
“Iamserious,” I said, arms still crossed, eyes gleaming like a gremlin at midnight. “Think about it. The weekend’s been chaos, yes. But it’s beenfunchaos. Minus the whole career-implosion-maybe-happening situation.”
“Oh, minus that,” he deadpanned. “Sure.”
“You’re divorced now. Publicly. The scandal’s old news. You dropped that video, and people ate it up.Adoredyou. You could stab me with a cake knife and they’d still call you elegant.”
