Page 81 of The Renter
“Weird?” I press. “I would never describe my hometown as weird.”
“Everyone is normal, but then in the summer, people like you come up here. It’s a strange juxtaposition.” I take a sip of my wine, considering it. That is probably the perfect word to describe it.I love how smart she is.
“Pretty much everyone’s job is related to tourism. No offense, but the FIBs are awful.”
“Aren’t you one?” I tease. She’s been living in Chicago for years, after all.
“I don’t identify as one.” Dani smiles, and fuck, I can’t get enough. I missed her the last couple of days. “So, this is the north shore,” she says in a mock Waspy tone. “The old money of Geneva Lake lives on this side.”
I chuckle since I know three people with houses on this side of the lake. “Are you sure? Two of the three people I know with houses on this side are new money.”
“Historically, it’s the old money side,” she sasses.
The sound of loud music catches my attention. “This boat is getting close to us.”
Dani looks back. “I know these guys!” she says warmly, putting the boat in neutral. “Ben!” she yells.
The guy driving the boat is in his early thirties, and so are the other guys with him. “Dani!” he says, excited to see her. “When are you and your friends coming back into Charlie’s?” I push down how I feel too old for her right now.
“I don’t know. Soon, I’m sure.”
The guy looks at me, then Dani says, “This is Adam.”
“Hey,” he says, and I nod. Then, he looks back at Dani. “So, awkward question for you … Is Kelsey single?”
“Oh my God, is she finally old enough to ride that ride?” Dani squeals in excitement, and he blushes. “She’s single!”
I’m too relieved he’s not interested in her and take a sip of my wine.
“Purple drinks on me the next time you come in,” he says, then drives off.
“Purple drinks?” I ask.
“It’s their signature cocktail. A hangover in a glass.”
I laugh as she puts the boat back in gear and continues our cruise. Passing Geoff Albert’s house, I send Declan a fast text, wondering what the status of his meetings is. There goes my relaxation, with my mind now thinking back to work and howmuch younger Dani is than me. I take a big sip of my wine, trying to refocus.
We continue past a couple houses until Dani and I both say in unison, “Declan’s.”
Curious, I ask, “Have you ever been?”
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“No! He bought it, like, a year ago.” I laugh. “I saw it in the news. Speaking of that, I’m super curious. How did you get the media to not use your photo in any of the articles about your divorce?”
“Fear,” he says, beyond casually.
“Fear?” I ask, wanting to know more.
“It was war.”
“That’s an interesting way of putting it.”
“It was me against the media. Me against my ex. My lawyers did exactly what they needed to do.” He rubs his hand across the back of his neck. I’ve learned that means he’s stressed. Then he says, “Privacy is the most valuable thing in the world. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” I nod, considering that. “My ex knows how much I value privacy, so the press about the divorce was her petty thing.”
I sip my drink, then decide to ask him more about his divorce. “Personal follow-up question you don’t have to answer.”
“Okay?” he asks hesitantly.
