Page 71 of Old Flames

They ate in comfortable silence, two peas in a pod.

“What did you do today?” he asked.

“Edits,” she said. “How about you?”

“Visited the cemetery.”

She put down her plastic spoon. The Key West Cemetery was renowned for its elaborate mausoleums and quirky epitaphs. A devotee of Morticia Addams, she’d love to go.

“For research?” she asked.

He nodded and drew a small notebook out of his back pocket. “Want to hear some funny shit?”

“Yes!”

He pulled a pair of glasses out from nowhere cracked open the notebook. “‘I’m just resting my eyes.’ ”

“Cute.”

“This is my favorite one. ‘I told you I was sick.’ ”

Jules spilled onto her side, laughing. She loved a good I told you so moment.

“And a literary reference for us,” he said, emphasis on us. “‘So long, and thanks for all the fish.’ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.”

“Perfect,” Jules said. “Will any of this make it into the book?”

“No,” he replied. “I’m only interested in the tombstones of people who died in 1886, after the Great Fire.”

“A historical novel from L.J. White,” Jules said. “Breaking news!”

His writing had a distinct contemporary feel and always wove in the political issues of the day.

“Getting anyone to care might be a problem,” he said.

Jules set down her cup of chowder and went for the pasta. “Should I give you the same rousing speech Vicky gave Matty?”

“Unnecessary,” he said. “It’s enough to know that you’re rooting for me. It means the world.”

She would’ve laughed it off if his tone wasn’t so earnest. “Leo, I’ve been rude to you. I’ve been a bitch . . .”

His brows spiked. “And?”

“You never hold it against me,” she continued. “Why haven’t you just . . . fucked off?”

“You have such a way with words, my love.”

“I’m serious.”

He set the notebook aside. “I haven’t been able to fuck off since the night we met,” he said. “You’ve been living in my imagination ever since. Does that answer your question?”

“What do you think happened to us that night?” she asked. They’d gone over it before, but still, she wasn’t satisfied. The attraction was there, right from the start, but they hadn’t yet touched on the real reason. “Why can’t we get over it?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But I don’t ever plan to get over it.”

“It was just a bit of flirty banter, and not even that,” she said. “I wasn’t in a flirty mood. And if I’d made a move on a guest, I would’ve lost my job.”

“I never thought of that,” he said. “You were so distant. I was sure I was annoying you. Now that I know about your mother, I see it differently.”