Page 67 of Dead Set on You
And now I’m back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, wondering if I’ll find any answers to my questions. Rafael seems to think answers often linger in the ceiling—and I have questions. If Lupe’s almost-revelation is to be believed, it means Rafael might be hiding a secret. Something to do with me being here?
But I’d know if somethingseriouswas going on.
Rafael’s an open book. Written in large-print font.
Right?
Thump, thump, thump.
The throbbing is the only answer I get.
I breathe through a wave of frustrated alarm when I hear Rafael in the dining room, his voice low and urgent but frustratingly unintelligible.
Secrets, secrets, secrets.
I shift on the sofa and catch a glimpse of him over the armrest. Wearing nothing but sweatpants, he’s leaning against the table, talking on the phone … and possibly telling Dana all about how he’s going to run the OhLaLove account with his newly expanded team.
The Evie who has known Rafael for entirely too long separates from the one who has spent the last three days with him, and they each prop themselves on a different shoulder.
Pre-Coma Evie:He’s tricking you. Can’t you see? The smiles. The dimples. They’re all part of the distraction. He thinks he can Vela you long enough to get comfortable with his new promotionandget his choice of account managers—you included.
Coma Evie:You offered him the promotion—remember? Also, Rafael wouldn’t be focusing on his promotion when you’re in a coma. Sure, he swapped out your sanitizer for hand soap and made you faint that one time, but he’s notevil. Have you seen where he comes from? No one raised in that kind of family would do something like that.
Pre-Coma Evie snorts.That was part of the trick. The smoke and mirrors. “Look at my family—aren’t they wonderful? Aren’t they loving? How can I be anything but totally, completely harmless?” Don’t you dare fall for it. If he thinks you’ll just ignore the shadiness from last night, he’s got another thing coming … and she’s invisible and furious.
Coma Evie rolls her eyes.Oh, please! Rafael has a good heart. Deep, deep down, you know this. You know he wants to help you.He took you to his grandmother’s house. He dragged his cousin into this. Whatever secret you think he’s hiding, you’re wrong.
Pre-Coma Evie:Bullshit.
Coma Evie:Language.
I groan, willing the Evies to shut up.
As if he has Evie sensors, he looks directly at me. I want to duck before he can detect the suspicion on me. It’ll only make things more difficult—and we’ve only just made it to reluctant allies. As much as I don’t like it, I need his help, and I have to keep the peace. I’m cool, calm, collected.
Smoothing down the same dress I’ve worn for three days, I join him in the dining room, where he’s exchanged his phone for a mug of coffee. While his sweatpants hang low on his hips, the rest of him is bare and tanned and being used as a weapon of mass destruction in this round of Evie vs. Rafael.
I mentally kick Pre-Coma Evie and focus on his hairline when I say, “Sleep well?”
He watches me over the rim of his mug. “Fine. You?”
“Like the dead,” I offer with a shrug and an overly bright smile.
His eyes narrow. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’ve laced my coffee with cyanide.”
I gasp, hand over chest. “Please. While I’d love company in this liminal hellscape, I’m notthatdesperate. I thought we were past that.”
He glances into his mug, then brings it to his lips slowly. Cautiously.
I look at him as if to sayReally?
“Are you okay?” He lowers the mug, regarding me. From head to pumps.
“Fa-boo-lous,” I say. Too sweetly, because his brows dance in surprise. He seems unsettled. And maybe this is the way to go. Make him feel a little off-balance. If he’s rattled, maybe he’llslip, and maybe I’ll get to the bottom of whatever he might be hiding.
