Page 47 of Hello, Sunshine


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He motioned toward the Porsche. “Her husband came home unexpectedly. So I’m hiding out. The cigarette is just my cover.”

“I’m sure!”

He put the cigarette out on the heel of his shoe, as though proving the point. “And besides, people have all kinds of arrangements. If anyone should know that . . .”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

He looked up thoughtfully. “I’m sure that’s true,” he said.

I sat on the bottom step, too exhausted to figure out if he meant that, or if he was still making fun. “Sammy went inside?”

“Safe and sound.”

I mu

st have made a face, the stench of the fish coming off of him strongly.

“Sorry, I didn’t have a chance to shower yet.”

“There are worse things,” I said.

He smiled. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me since we met,” he said. “Thank you.”

“So what do you fish, anyway?”

“Today? Swordfish. But it depends. I’m part of a seafarers’ collective out here with Thomas. We fish sustainably, so that kind of dictates how it goes.”

He leaned in.

“Sustainably means fresh caught, local fish. Not a lot of food miles, softened carbon footprint.”

“I know what it means.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure how deep the fraud went. If they taught you anything.”

I ignored him. “How’s Thomas doing? Rain didn’t want to talk about it.”

“He’ll be fine. But he’s not going on the water anytime soon. So my summer just got a little more complicated.”

“I’m sure you can rally up the fish on your own.”

“I’m guessing that’s true.” He tilted his head and considered. “Are you looking for some work? While you’re here?”

“I can’t smell like you.”

He smirked. “I wasn’t offering you a job. I just happen to know that the first bait shop on the harbor is looking for extra help. I could probably get you some work at the cash register.”

I laughed loudly.

“I know it’s not sexy, but . . .”

“You think?”

He put up his hands in surrender. “I was saying that I would put in a good word. That’s all.”

We heard a door slam and both looked up to see his girlfriend’s husband walk out the front door and head to his red sports car. He was tall and handsome, in a pretty-boy kind of way. Tall and a little too thin. City slick.

He looked over at us on the steps. “Ethan! I thought that was you,” he said.

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