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Cal’s name lit up the screen.
Steph stared at it. Was he really calling? Should she answer? Of course she should … so why was she just staring at her phone like she was in some sort of trance?
She drew in a breath, then another, and answered in a completely mellow, non-breathless voice. “This is Steph. How may I help you?”
There. More professional.
“Hey, sorry I had to cut off your call.”
His voice came through the phone as deep, warm, melty … Steph leaned forward in her chair. “No worries. I just—well, I’m on a work break and wanted to see how things went with your aunt.”
There was a significant pause. Was she being too nosy? Too presumptuous that he’d want to tell her anything? If anyone was a locked box, it was Cal.
“It went fine,” he said. “She knew some things already, and it was nice to see her again.”
“Good to hear.”
Another beat of silence.
Now what … “So, where do you live?” she asked at the same moment he said, “Where do you work?”
Steph laughed. Wow, she was nervous.
“I work at Carol’s Cuts & Curls,” she said. “You know, cutting and styling hair.”
“Oh. You do?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Cal.” Steph felt cringy inside. “It’s a decent and productive job.”
“I’m not … I didn’t mean to … Uh, I’m starting over. I just thought you were going to be an English teacher. You were a spelling whiz and also so good at English.”
A familiar pang jagged through her chest. That night of their one and only date had been when she’d confessed her dream of going to college and becoming an English teacher … things she hadn’t even told her best friends. “My work break’s not long enough to explain that,” she said lightly.
Cal’s laugh was warm, and Steph cursed the perky butterflies in her stomach.
“All right, we’ll save that for another time.”
“And you owe me your stories, too.”
“True.”
The pause between them felt heavy. “So … where do you work? What do you do?”
“I’m a private investigator.”
This caused Steph to straighten in her chair. “What? Really?”
“That was enthusiastic.” He sounded surprised.
Steph was smiling. “I can’t believe it. I have sooo many questions. Wait, what are your rates?”
“What’s going on?” His voice went serious. “Are you in trouble, Bee?”
The use of his personal nickname for her got the butterflies twisting and turning again. “Oh, not me, but for someone else. It’s … complicated.”
Someone tapped on the door, and it opened a crack. “Steph? Your two o’clock is here.”
“Be there in a sec,” she told Ally.
