Page 41 of The Write Stuff

“I’ve been a lot meaner than you.”

“Not really. You have no idea the horrible thoughts I’ve had.”

“What sort of horrible thoughts?” I was curious despite myself. I’d come to the conclusion that Wylie didn’t have a mean bone in her body.

“Well, I’m a big fan of The X-Files. Some of the monster-of-the-week episodes had particularly gruesome outcomes.”

“Like what?” I prodded her to cross the street. I wanted to get a better look at that Saddlebags line.

“Well, in one episode, a bunch of ancient bugs escaped a tree when it was illegally cut down, and they spun up a bunch of loggers in webs when they were still alive. Then they slowly drained them of fluids and turned them into mummies.”

I blinked. Then I blinked again. Then I burst out laughing. “You really are a geek.”

She shrugged and looked away from me. “I’m okay with that. You’re the only one who isn’t okay with it.”

“No.” I took her hand without realizing I was going to do it and tugged her back. “I’m fine with it.”

“You are not!” Thankfully, she was laughing and didn’t seem angry. “The Klingon drives you crazy. It drove you crazy back then.”

“I don’t get the Klingon,” I acknowledged. “You can’t hold something that happened when I was 17 years old against me, though. I was an idiot back then.”

“You don’t like the Klingon now,” she pointed out.

I led her to one of the openings between the JW Marriott River District Hotel buildings. I cast a quick look over my shoulder to see if I saw Chad, but I didn’t. He’d either gone into Saddlebags or taken the hint and gone home.

“I find the Klingon now … weird,” I said finally.

“See. You don’t like that I’m a geek.” She pulled her hand away from me, and I missed the feel of her skin against mine. I was definitely feeling something weird here. I could not fathom what was happening to me.

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” I growled as we emerged on the other side of the building. Just like the last time we’d walked on the riverwalk, it was virtually empty. I looked around, confused. “Why is this area not busier?”

She followed my gaze, looking up and down the quiet expanse. “I like it this way.”

“I do too,” I admitted. “Shouldn’t there be live musicians up and down this strip, though? What about the bars?” I pointed toward District Seafood. “Why aren’t they overflowing with people?”

She shrugged, then lifted her chin. “Man, what is that? It smells good.”

My stomach had growled in anticipation when I registered the scent too. “I don’t know. My dinner was good, but I’m hungry again.” I glanced down at her. “How about you?”

Suddenly, she looked suspicious. “What about the ice cream?”

I laughed. “I’ll buy you dinner and ice cream, and a cocktail.” I inclined my head toward the bar. “We need to talk.” I was resigned to that. “This is as good a place as any. It’s pretty. The wind off the river is nice. Nobody is going to interrupt us out here.”

She was quiet for a beat, then shrugged. “I’ll agree on one condition.”

“What’s that? If you expect me to lie and say speaking Klingon is cool, you’re destined for disappointment.”

“Not that.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot. I know you’re always going to hate the Klingon.”

“Then what?”

“Are you doing this because you’re afraid Chad is lurking out here somewhere to follow us?”

I shrugged. “I don’t think he is, but I want to make sure you’re safe. That’s not the whole reason, though. We really do need to talk. I don’t want to hate you, Wylie. I don’t want you to hate me either. There has to be a way past this.”

She sighed, the sound long and drawn out. “Okay. I can live with that.”

WE ORDERED CAJUN SHRIMP AND fries and drank draft beer. And we laughed as we reminisced. We laughed a lot. The conversation didn’t turn into anything serious until we were on our way to her place. I had every intention of delivering her there safely, even though I was convinced Chad had disappeared hours before.