I set the phone down on the mattress and slip on my tee.
 
 * * *
 
 Daisy Jonas
 
 Want me to look into her?
 
 Me
 
 U already did.
 
 * * *
 
 How’d she forget? Did Miles give her some of his gummies? What’re they doing while I’m out of the office?
 
 * * *
 
 Daisy Jonas
 
 For realz
 
 * * *
 
 Oh. She means use ARGUS.
 
 * * *
 
 Me
 
 No
 
 Go pester Miles
 
 * * *
 
 The bathroom door opens. Sydney’s in a sundress. Her wet, raven hair has been brushed smooth, and the thin straps on the dress are drenched.
 
 I drop my phone in my shorts pocket.
 
 “Is this little bet of yours an honor system arrangement? Did I just catch you cheating?”
 
 “My word is good,” I tell her in my deep, what I hope is an I-am-a-sexy-male voice. “You ready?”
 
 She’s holding several zipped bags, presumably from the bathroom.
 
 “You are one organized packer.”
 
 She shrugs.
 
 “A woman after my own heart,” I mutter.
 
 “What was that?”
 
 She busies herself arranging her suitcase, and I shove my hands in pockets.
 
 Should I ask?
 
 She never really confirmed.