Page 7 of Nerdplay
“Thereabouts.” He surveys the background. “What does that entail? Science labs?”
“Not that kind of nerd. We’re more of the pop-culture variety. Activities designed for people with common interests. Comic-Camp gives them a sense of belonging that they don’t necessarily get in their daily lives. Two weeks of sword fights, zombie battles, tabletop games…” I wave a hand at the campground. “All set in peaceful tranquility.”
His gaze shifts to the lake. “Nothing about that sounds peaceful.”
“I’m talking about inner peace.”
“And your grandparents were the first ones to let their freak flag fly?”
“No. It was a regular summer camp for kids back then. I added the adult portion five years ago, but I grew up here.” I look around at the thriving landscape. “I have memories of every tree branch. Every stone.”
“I’m sure my client won’t object if you stuff a few rocks in your pockets on the way out.”
I want to wipe the smug look off his chiseled face. Seriously, did he source those cheekbones straight from an underground quarry in Italy? His stone-cold features suit him.
“It isn’t only the setting. It’s the experience. The same campers come back season after season. It’s a home away from home for many of them. One place they know they’ll be among like-minded people.”
“Sounds like law school.”
I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “Oh? Do they have combat archery in law school?”
“The law used to offer trial by combat. Does that count?” He snort-laughs and it annoys me that the sound does nothing to detract from his good looks. Life is so unfair.
“Unless you’re here to register for camp, you’re a trespasser. I’m friends with the chief of police and trust me when I say he’ll have no problem escorting you from the premises on my say so.”
The look on his face says he doesn’t doubt it. “Well, you have my contact information. If you change your mind...”
I fold my arms. “I won’t.”
He seems uncertain what to do next, which I have to admit, I kind of enjoy. “Bye now,” I say with a friendly wave. Okay, friendly is a stretch. More like mocking.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Abernathy.”
“You’re a terrible liar, which I would think is a job requirement for you. Maybe you ought to consider another line of work.”
A shadow passes over the slab of marble. I might’ve missed it if I wasn’t gazing so intently at his face.
Wait. Not gazing. Looking. Because that’s what people do during a conversation, unless you’re one of my neurodivergent campers who struggles with eye contact.
“Have a good day.” Charles turns on his heel and strides toward the dirt parking lot. I’m surprised his Audi didn’t reverse in horror at the lack of blacktop.
“May the Force be with you,” I call after him. There’s no way a jerk like him would get a Star Wars reference.
I spin toward my office and nearly collide with Gloria. “Sorry about that,” I say.
“It’s okay. Who was that man?”
“A lawyer.”
Her eyes widen. “Are you in trouble?”
I plaster on a smile to ease her anxiety. “No, not at all. Nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, good. Do you have Buffy?”
I pat the pocket of my shorts. “She’s safe and sound.”
“I hope she didn’t cause any trouble.”
