The bathroom door swung open with my index finger mid thrust, scolding my reflection. The older woman gave me a funny look, and I waved my hand around wildly.
“There’s a fly in here.” Smooth, always smooth. With one last gulp of air, I returned to the table to finish the disaster of an evening.
Gabe held my phone up to me as I sat back down in my chair.
“I hope you don’t mind, but your phone started ringing. I lifted it out of your bag so I could put it on silent. This guy seems to want to reach you badly. He’s called a few times.”
I glanced at the screen before dropping it into my clutch.
“Sorry about that.”
“Is that part of the job?”
“Part of…? Oh, no. Ben’s an old friend. He’s been nagging me about coming to his bachelor party. He doesn’t seem to want to take no for an answer.”
“Well, if he’s inviting you to his bachelor party, you must be good friends. Where’s the party?”
“Louisiana. My home town. A small town I can promise you you’ve never been to.”
“I can’t say I know much about Louisiana. I’ve been to New Orleans.”
“That’s probably the only place in the state worth going to.”
“So, no plans to move back?”
“No.” Eager to change the subject, I held up my now full glass of wine. “Shall we toast?”
He held up his glass and beat me to the toasting punch. “To an unforgettable first date.”
“You’re a smooth one, Mr. Chesterton. Suave and debonair. I bet you have all the ladies eating out of your hand.”
“I know how to treat women well. I enjoy getting to know people. All kinds of people. And I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever had the honor of getting to know someone quite like you.”
My throat closed up as I pushed my ribs in and out, forcing myself to breathe. The guy was seriously way too smooth. He leaned forward, and I slid my chair back a notch, feeling a bit like prey with a predator lurking, sizing up the kill.
Chapter 15
Gabe
The buzz of her vibrating phone piqued my curiosity. The low hum reverberated through the thin cloth material of her clutch. Her handbag lay resting on the side of the table, close to her beverage glass. I might have been losing my mind, but it appeared the vibration sent ripples through the sparkling water.
By the time our entrees arrived, I’d determined someone called her every two or three minutes. Was she a phone sex operator? Was that a part of OnlyFans I’d missed when reviewing the website? Were these calls from her supposed friend?
Her rounded cheeks bloomed pink, offsetting those gorgeous blue eyes. Her blonde hair fell in a mix of ringlets and loose curls. The longer strands fell over her decolletage, highlighting those ample breasts. She chattered on in a way that implied she might be nervous, and that ongoing blush gave the illusion of innocence. But she couldn’t be innocent. She made her money off nudes. Well, actually, not nudes. I checked her account regularly, and her images ranged from a TikTok fully clothed “here’s how to apply eyeliner” version to the occasional Sports Illustrated or Maxim sexy shot. How she had paying subscribers—that piece I didn’t understand.
“So, what brought you to Haven Island?” The question risked falling in boring first date territory, but given I’d been questioning my recent decision to move to this remote location, it remained on the tip of my tongue for any year-rounder.
She licked her lip, catching a slip of buttery sauce from her pan seared scallops. She dipped her head and dabbed those plush lips with her napkin, and I shifted in my seat, needing a readjustment. In an unsure tone belying her youth, she mumbled, “Excuse me.” I’d almost forgotten my question by the time she sipped her water, dabbed those lips once more, and got around to answering me.
“A friend of mine went to UNC-Wilmington, the school that’s over in Wilmington.” She pointed out the window, over the darkening ocean. I supposed she aimed to point in the direction of the mainland. I nodded for her to continue. “Well, I came here, and I loved it. I worked in Wilmington for a while at a restaurant, and then one of the waitstaff said something about openings at restaurants over here that paid well. I’m a small-town girl, and even though Wilmington isn’t exactly big, it has traffic, and it’s more or less a college town. There’s something peaceful out here on the island. It’s like being in another world. I can go over to Wilmington, or Southport, any time I like, but I love the day to day here. Slow and easy. Do you know what I mean?”
“No,” I responded immediately and smirked as her mouth dropped into a delectable little oh. “I’m coming out of my skin. It’s too quiet. I can’t sleep.” I had thought I would experience what she described, but peace remained elusive.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she said, skeptical.
“I know. I came out here as a kid and it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen when I visited earlier.” Come to think of it, I couldn’t sleep back in New York at the end either. “But it’s as if the more time I spend here, the quiet is getting louder? Does that make any sense?” I could tell I confused her. “Anyway, Siri plays sleep sounds for me now. I found an option with city noises, you know, automobiles, sirens. It’s helping.”
Her phone vibrated once more. The name Drew flashed on the screen as she turned the phone to check it. The prior caller had been Ben. This one read Drew.
“Is it
