Page 91 of You Fall First

“My friend’s little boy. You met him yesterday. Buzz Lightyear.”

“Sorry. I was just coming out to see if Landry’s ready for us to start serving.”

I hate the way Oliver says my sister’s name, so familiar. I hate that he has a relationship with my sisters simply because we had a relationship. I hate that he threw that relationship away. But mostly I hate that I don’t know where Dutton is.

“Jojo!” Dex calls out from across the room. “He’s here!”

When I turn, it’s Noah I see first, striding toward me. Dutton’s hopping along beside him, holding his hand.

Big hand. Tiny hand.

Huge relief.

I’d guess only about ninety seconds have passed since I noticed Dutton was missing. But I feel like I lost ninety years of my life.

Noah approaches us, ducking his head. “Dutton needed to go to the bathroom, and you were talking to Dex, so I took him. I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I’ll be fine,” I manage. But hot tears sting the corners of my eyes, and I lay a hand to my throat, breaths coming in sharp sips.

Noah was taking care of Dutton all along. He was always safe.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Noah says. His eyes bore into mine, heavy with concern.

“No, really. I’ll be⁠—”

“Hello, there,” Oliver interrupts us, specifically addressing Noah. Then, in the worst case of not-reading-the-room in recorded history, my ex sticks out his hand. “You must be the famous friend Jojo keeps mentioning.” Oliver straightens to his full height, as if he might actually reach Noah’s level.

“I’m not famous,” Noah says, accepting the handshake. “But I am Jo’s friend. Noah Stadler.”

“Hi,” Dutton says, still holding on to his uncle’s other hand. Then he waves at Oliver with his free one. The gesture is sweet and innocent, but Oliver barely spares him a greeting.

“Good evening, young man.”

Oliver doesn’t remember Dutton’s name. That much is obvious. Even though they met yesterday and I reminded him a minute ago. This would be strange, except for Oliver’s well-established pattern. Focusing on anyone but himself or his competition has never been his strong suit.

I guess I just ignored those red flags until they smacked me in the face over a secret text thread.

Noah clears his throat. “And you are?”

“Oh. Yes. Of course.” Oliver darts a glance at me. “I’m Oliver. Oliver Wells.”

Noah studies him for a long moment. The edge of his jaw ticks. “Right. The caterer.”

“Chef,” Oliver corrects.

Noah huffs a small laugh. “Where’s the white hat?”

Oliver lingers on the question for a beat before his mouth slides into a smirk. “Back in the cliché shop.”

He clearly thinks he landed a blow, but Noah doesn’t miss a beat. “Good one, man.”

Noah turns away and squats down to meet Dutton, eye to eye. “You know Wally and Rowan asked to sit with you.” He points over to a table where Kendal and Tim are standing.

Watching. Waiting.

“Come grab a seat,” Kendal calls out, waving Dutton over. “You can relax, guys. We’ve got ’em now.”

Since my blood pressure is nowhere near returning to normal, my sister’s reassurance means a lot. The last thing I need is to worry about Dutton disappearing again.