“Good,” Granger says. “Because although Lauren and I are happy to welcome you with open arms, your dog has to go.”
Cash feels like Granger has just taken him into a headlock and is squeezing his windpipe. “Winnie?” he squeaks.
“Winnie,” Granger says. “Lauren and I are far too peripatetic to have pets, and the way she decorated the house—”
“In white,” Cash says. “Right, I get it.” He swallows. “We’ve kept Winnie mostly outside…”
“‘Mostly outside’ won’t cut it with my wife,” Granger says. “And it’s not fair to the dog. So best to find another place for her to wait out this time of transition you’re in.”
“Yes, sir,” Cash says. He’s saved from breaking down in tears in front of Granger when Tilda honks the horn of the Range Rover. “Steele, let’s go!” she calls out.
“Exactly like her mother,” Granger says. He claps Cash on the arm. “All right, Cashman, glad we understand each other.”
On the steep, twisting drive from Peter Bay to town, Tilda says, “How was the inquisition?”
“Most of it was okay. But—”
“But it was a complete ambush,” Tilda says. “I know. I’m sorry. They normally text or call to let me know they’re coming so I can go to Starfish and get their soy milk or whatever. This is highly unusual. I think after I told them you were staying here, they wanted to catch us unawares.”
They succeeded, Cash thinks. The night before, Tilda got home from La Tapa bearing goodies from the kitchen in to-go boxes—a gorgonzola Caesar, pork belly, and wood-grilled sirloin. They lit the candles on the patio table; Tilda opened a good bottle of cabernet from Granger’s wine collection—the Lail 2016 Blueprint—and after she tasted it, she winked at Cash and said, “Notes of fire coral, DEET, and the Tide Pod challenge.”
“Good one!” Cash said. Nonsensical wine descriptions had become a verbal tic of Tilda’s ex, Skip, the bartender at La Tapa, and Tilda and Cash couldn’t stop themselves from riffing on it.
They had just picked up their forks to dig in when they heard voices, and Cash, for one panicked moment, feared another FBI raid—were they coming for him?—but then Tilda scooted back her chair and said, “Well, hello, parents!”
“Don’t you two look cozy,” Lauren Payne said. She was tall with a slender yoga physique like Tilda, but while Tilda sported a pixie cut, Lauren had long golden-brown hair that she’d pulled up in a ponytail. She wore a white linen dress and a pair of leopard-print wedge sandals. She was…pretty. And looked way younger than Cash had expected.
Granger followed close on Lauren’s heels. He wore a tan suit, white shirt, and no tie; he had his hair slicked back, and reading glasses were perched on top of his head. His handshake was brutal, but somehow Cash had anticipated this and gave his firmest effort, complete with eye contact and smile. On the inside, however, Cash felt his confidence evaporate. Her parents were here. What would they think about Cash moving in? Did they know what had happened to his father? His mother? The optics weren’t great; Cash realized this. His father, now dead, had been revealed to have a second family hidden down here, and his sketchy—indeed illegal—business practices had been uncovered. His mother was newly destitute and worked on a fishing boat.
It wasn’t exactly the platinum pedigree that the elder Paynes no doubt wanted for the romantic partner of their only child.
However, the only thing Tilda’s parents had objected to in that moment was her opening the 2016 Blueprint. Granger fetched two balloon goblets from the crystal cabinet (Tilda and Cash were drinking the wine out of regular tumblers) and poured wine for himself and Lauren, then they retreated to the master wing, which was so far from Tilda’s wing that it was like a separate house.
When Cash asked how much Tilda’s parents knew about his situation, she said, “I tell my mother everything and she tells my dad.”
“And do they…care?”
“Granger will probably have questions in the morning,” Tilda said.
But neither Tilda nor Cash had thought about the dog.
“So most of it was okay,” Tilda says now. “But not all of it?”
Cash thinks back to the first time Tilda brought him to the Peter Bay villa. Tilda and Cash were caring for Tilda’s very drunk friend Max, and Cash had noticed the villa’s terrifyingly white furnishings because he was afraid Max might vomit on them. And then later, at dinner, Tilda told Cash she volunteered to walk dogs at the shelter because her parents wouldn’t let her get a dog of her own.
But Tilda hadn’t balked for even one second about Cash bringing Winnie with him, though she did suggest Winnie stay only in Tilda’s wing of the house. (The line about Winnie living mostly outside was a lie.) And Virgie, the housekeeper, had seemed not only unbothered by Winnie but downright delighted by her. She had even brought Winnie treats!
“Your dad told me Winnie has to go,” Cash says.
They have reached the parking lot across from Mongoose Junction. Tilda pulls in. “I was afraid of that.”
“I’m not sure what to do,” Cash says.
“Your mom?” Tilda says. “Baker?”
“Maybe?” Cash says. Baker is at a hotel, so the answer is no, or not yet. His mother…argh. She loves Winnie, but she’s a guest herself, just like Cash. He manufactures a smile. “I’ll figure something out. Can you come pick me up at four? If not, I’ll hitch.”
“If you think I’m going to let someone else pick you up, you’re crazy,” she says, and she leans over for a kiss.
“Thank you,” Cash says.
“You’re not allowed to thank me.”
“I know, but…I want you to know that I’m grateful. The timing on all of this was so…bad. Our relationship is still so new and you’ve done so much.”
“All I’ve really done is save you from pining after Ayers,” Tilda says. “I told my mother you used to have a crush on her.”
“You did not,” Cash says.
