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“Too early in the morning for you to be lying.” Benny wags a weathered finger at me. He’s been a landscaper for thirty years, and it shows in his permanently tanned skin and the sunspots he carries on his face and arms. He’s the oldest one of us, and the only one I could really see myself telling about Natalie or Shawn.
Still, all I do is shrug. “It was nothing exciting. Just stayed up too late watching a movie.”
“Which one?”
“Die Hard.” It’s the first one that comes to my head, and it’s Benny’s favorite, so I know it’ll get him off the subject of me.
His face brightens and he launches into an impressive Bruce Willis impression that makes me grin. He keeps it up while we outfit ourselves for the day’s work. We take care of the insecticides on the base every few months, so it’s just a few of us here today. It’s hot work, but the pay is good, so I’m not going to complain.
Our boss—Gavin—is really great and doesn’t care about when we break or come in as long as the work gets done by the promised time. So while Benny entertains the other two workers—Carl and Vicki—with a recap of the plot of the fourthDie Hardmovie, I put some earbuds in and get to work.
The sun beats down on the back of my neck as it rises higher in the sky, but I don’t bother with sunblock. We’ll be done by lunchtime with the four of us working.
It’s not even noon by the time we finish, but it’s already pretty hot. The four of us gather in the parking lot and drink some bottled water.
“What’re we doing about lunch?” Carl—the youngest of us—asks. “Because we all know whose turn it is.”
Benny cuts him a look. “I’m sure the Wendy’s up the road is offering one of those five-dollar deals.”
The rest of us groan.
“Not there again,” Vicki says, adjusting her hair in its bun. “I can’t look at anymore of their food. Take us somewhere nice.”
“We don’t look good enough to go somewhere nice,” Benny replies. “Fast food or bust.”
“It’s not the 1800s anymore,” Carl says. “We don’t have to dress up to go somewhere that’s not fast food.”
Before Benny can reply, a car with rental plates pulls into the parking lot, almost clipping my Jeep. The engine cuts out, and then Shawn steps out of the car, his face marred with a scowl.
“Oh.” Vicki’s eyebrows lift.
“Can we help you?” Benny asks, wiping his hands on his khaki shorts.
“I need to talk to Lucas,” Shawn replies, his voice just barely cordial. Anger burns beneath the words.
Benny looks at me, like he’s waiting to make sure I’m okay if they leave.
I give him a nod.
“All right, well, if you decide to join us, you know where we’ll be,” Benny says, and he heads to his car with the other two.
“What?” I ask Shawn as soon as the others are out of earshot.
“I can pay for my own car service,” he says. “I don’t need your charity.”
“It’s not charity.”
“Well, I don’t want fuck money either.”
“Get the fuck over yourself. That’s not what it was. I felt bad about snapping at you, okay?” It’s uncomfortable to admit because a big part of me is still angry at him, but I don’t want him thinking I paid for his car just because we slept together.
His scowl stays, but his voice loses some of its edge. “You shouldn’t have felt bad. It was fine.”
“Well, what’s Killian say about the car?”
“Needs a battery,” he says grudgingly. “It’ll be ready tomorrow. He got me in touch with the rental place.”
When I stay silent, he clears his throat and admits quietly, “I didn’t like not knowing what happened to my car. I know it’s a piece of crap, but it’s mine. It was the first thing I ever bought, and sometimes, it was what I lived in. So I don’t like not knowing where it is.”
