“Girlfriend problems already, man?”
Shepherd pushed his breakfast around on his plate, the prongs of his forks scratching the ceramic, leaving trails of scrambled egg behind. “It isn’t like that. I just … I can’t come in today, OK. Keep me posted if something comes up.”
“Sure it isn’t,” Noah teased. “Whatever you say, Boss.”
Shepherd hung up. Ginny still hadn’t come back.
He finished off the rest of his breakfast, glancing around the restaurant every few bites. He was just about to go outside and check when she came back to the booth, her hair windswept and her cheeks pink and—
Lex kicked him under the table.
He closed his eyes and got himself together.
“That was our friend Charlie,” Ginny said. “He wants to meet us again.”
“He just wants more free pizza.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, grabbing more napkins and cleaning his daughter’s face simultaneously. “Can you get the check, please?”
Shepherd sighed. “That’s what I’m here for.”
THIRTY
Chloe’s parents seemed normal enough, but who was Shepherd to judge? He exchanged numbers with the mom, gave Lex a quick pat on the head when she dodged a hug, and went back to his car to find Ginny once again in the passenger’s seat.
The cold blast of the A/C on his face felt like a gift from God Himself after being outside for approximately thirty-three seconds.
Shepherd steered the car back onto the road the GPS indicated. “What did this maniac say, anyway?”
Ginny pulled down the visor and flipped open the mirror. She reapplied her lipstick and brushed out her hair with her fingertips, the scent of her coconut shampoo filling his nose, which he only breathed in by accident. Besides, his hair smelled like that too, because she washed his hair for him last night.
Shepherd cleared his throat and adjusted himself.
“The maniac,” Ginny repeated, closing the visor. “Mr. Cardello.”
Shepherd huffed.
She continued, smiling wide, “Said he saw my brother on the news, and it made him feel, and I quote, ‘some type of way.’ He said he thinks he can help us and asked us back to his house.”
“I don’t like this guy.”
“Shepherd.” Ginny put her hand on his shoulder, and then moved it behind his neck, pressing her fingers into his tendons. “You don’t like anybody.”
“Exactly.” He tried not to let his stupid face show exactly how good the impromptu massage felt. “Everyone is terrible, and I am always right about it.”
She giggled. Shepherd tried to ignore what her giggling did to his blood pressure.
“That’s it,” Ginny cooed, her treacherous fingers still at work. “Just relax and accept that this is happening. It will all be over soon. Don’t—”
“Don’t tell menotto freak out, Ginny,” Shepherd said. He gripped the steering wheel as tight as he could. “Don’t say that again or, as God is my witness, I will freak out in such a way that it will make headlines. No one will have seen anything like it before. And they never will again.”
Instead of backing away, Ginny only giggled again and started scratching her nails against his scalp. She was chaos incarnate, through and through.
A man was waiting for them outside Charlie Cardello’s house. A clean-shaven, well-dressed, handsome man in his middle forties, with slicked-back dark hair. His guayabera shirt was light blue and unbuttoned low enough to show off chest hair and a thick, gold necklace. He grinned and waved when he saw them.
“Who the hell is that?”
Ginny snorted. “That’s Charlie. Remember?”
