Page 18 of Old Flames

“Got it,” he said, smiling. “Your friends call you Jules.”

“They do.”

“What do I call you?”

“You’ll have to sort that out for yourself.”

“I look forward to it.”

Jules couldn’t look at him, couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop smiling.

“I was hoping to catch you last night,” he said, “and tell you I respect your work.” Respect was the baseline, the bare minimum. Meanwhile, she adored his work. With each book, his writing had only gotten better, sharper. She’d stayed up nights reading his novels. She took his paperbacks on her travels and reread them on planes, trains, and automobiles. She’d studied his work, broke down sentence structure, analyzed word choices.

“Likewise.”

Jules was grateful for Ayesha’s timely arrival, or else she might’ve cracked and revealed her disappointment.

Ayesha greeted Leo with a brief hug. “Slept well?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “How about you? Did anything go bump in the night?”

“No, but I slept with this.” Ayesha rested a hand on the simple diamond cross pendant at her neck.

“Got any extras?” he asked.

Jules stepped back, attempting to exit his orbit, but didn’t get far. A glance her way and easily, effortlessly, he roped her back in.

6

While he waited to board the catamaran, Matty approached Leo on the pier. They’d been up late, and Matty hid his bloodshot eyes under the rim of a weathered bucket hat. “Who do you have your eyes on?” he asked. “It’s hard to tell. They move in a pack.”

The pack in question was at the end of the pier: Daphne, Ayesha, Vicky, Sebastien, and July. They huddled around Daphne, who had seemingly launched into one of her lectures.

“Not sure what you’re talking about,” Leo said.

Matty flashed a grin. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Don’t lie to your best mate, or at least your best mate on this trip.”

Leo had met Matty in London a few years back. They were mates, but barely so.

“If I were a betting man, and God knows I am,” Matty went on, “my money is on Miss Jones.”

“She low-key hates me,” Leo mumbled, which he was not wont to do.

“The kids say high-key when a thing is painfully obvious.”

“Is it obvious?”

“It’s not looking good,” Matty replied. “She exited the party the second you entered.”

And just before, she’d slid him a glance as sharp as a dagger. This morning was a different story. He’d made her smile. There was hope yet.

“Who’s on your radar?” Leo asked.

“You think Victoria’s into men with checkered pasts?”

“Which past are we talking about? The book that bombed last year?”

Matty laughed. “If only!”