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“Thanks. Hunter’s going all bodyguard on me.”
“It runs in the family.”
I passed her a plate with a lobster roll and crunched on a celery stick. “Hunter’s changed.”
“You mean he grew up.”
“No, I mean there’s something different about him.”
“Well, I’m sure the accident—”
“What accident?”
“Four years ago in Costa Rica, Hunter was shot and nearly burned alive, but that’s all I know. That kind of shit can give you PTSD.”
I remembered the scar on his thigh and abdomen from when I waxed him. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.” The old Hunter would have bragged about bullet wounds.
Emma’s phone rang with anAchy Breaky Hearttune, and her head flew up. “It’s Eric.”
“Eric Waters? You better take the call.”
Her gaze flew from the phone to me and back to her phone again.
“Hurry, before he hangs up,” I urged.
She picked up her phone and stepped away a few feet.
“These lobster rolls are the talk of the party.” I turned around at the unfamiliar voice.
“Hi,” I said. “They’re Olivier’s specialty.”
“From the Marina?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Rick. I’m Carly’s new gardener.”
“That’s right. She mentioned you. How do you like the neighborhood?”
And where did I know him from?
“What’s not to like? The air is clear, the drinks are flowing, and the women are hot.”
I laughed.
He lifted his aviator sunglasses to the top of his head.
“Where do I know you from?” I asked.
“I believe we met at the fertility clinic.”
Recognition set in.
“That’s right. Is your wife with you?”
“No, she’s visiting her sister in Chicago, so she couldn’t join the party. I was stuck at home when Carly kindly invited me over. It’ll be different once we have kids, you know? We’ll do picnic trips, camping getaways, and Disney vacations.”
It was everything I wanted. I set the empty piña colada glass on the table.
