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Richard sighed. “Okay. You won't hear another word from me about her. But if you want to talk, let me know.”
Will nodded, avoiding Richard's gaze. He watched the bartender dig into the cooler behind the bar to produce another beer, and during the silence, his mind drifted back to Elizabeth. He wondered if she was down in South Carolina, getting ready to explore the basin. She’d been so excited about going, and he’d been equally excited for her.
He had to call her; it was the right thing to do. He knew it, couldn't avoid it, and wouldn't be able to escape it. And hewouldcall her—once he got back from California. For now, over the next few days, he would use the time to think, to figure out a way to approach her. His concern wasn't really whathewould say; he was worried about whatshewould say. What would be her response? Would she admit to everything, and confirm his fears? How could she possibly explain those pictures?
She doesn’t need to.Every picture tells a story.
* * *
“Who's cooking?”
Elizabeth raised her hand. “I’m not much of a cook, but I can handle burgers.”
Thomas had arrived at the house just as Jason and Paul returned from the grocery store, and offered to help.
“I’ll be fine, thanks,” she told him. “You get settled.”
She stepped into the kitchen to unwrap the burgers and placed them on a platter. The grill was already warming, so all she needed was some cheese and some grill tools. As she dug around in one of the drawers, Jason walked in.
“I would be happy to help with dinner.”
She spoke without looking at him. “No thanks.”
“I'd really like to talk to you.”
She felt a rush of anger but suppressed it, determined not to let this bizarre set of circumstances get the best of her. Finally she found a spatula, and when she closed the drawer, she turned to face him.
“I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you.”
His eyebrows rose. “You know, wewillhave to talk to each other at some point. You're here for two weeks, and I'm the leader on this project.”
“I'mpainfullyaware of that. When we need to talk about something related to work, rest assured I will be the consummate professional. Other than that, don't expect much conversation from me.”
She walked out of the kitchen with the burgers, through the living room and out onto the deck. It was gorgeous out, but the humidity was oppressive. Her head was beginning to pound, and as she stood in front of the grill, she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. She would have to dig deep and find the strength to play the cards she'd been dealt.
She heard the slider open and lifted the lid of the grill, then lay the burgers on the grate.
“Elizabeth.”
She lowered the lid and turned to face him. “What? What could you possibly have to say to me?”
“I just wanted to see how you are. How you've been.”
Her mouth dropped open and she gave a short laugh. "Really? Pardon my language, but are you fucking serious?”
He suddenly looked unsure of himself. “Yes.”
“Don't you think you're a day late and a dollar short? I mean, when Ireallywanted to talk to you—four years ago—you were nowhere to be found.Nowyou want to chat me up?”
He stared at her silently, and the thought entered her mind again that he was the reason she was there to begin with.
“Tell me one thing, and I want the truth,” she said. “Did you ask the reserve to send me on this trip?”
“No. Your boss recommended you.”
“I was told by my boss that the project leaders asked for me. You're one of the leaders.”
“I didnotask for you. Collins recommended you, and I—along withothermembers of the team—agreed with his recommendation. That's all.”
