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Lita glanced from one of them to the other and sighed. “How did I end up with you cynics? Sometimes people are genuine and mean well.”
Bex tried to smile. “I know, Mum. I suppose I’ll see how tomorrow goes and make a decision from there.”
Lita’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t prejudge the boy.”
“He’s a man.” How well she knew that. “I’ll try to keep an open mind, for your sake.”
She wasn’t sure what difference it would make.
Chapter Eleven
He needed to stop obsessing.
Two hours after his confrontation with Bex, Michael had asked three different staff members what the Winter Wonderland Fair was, searched it on the internet, dithered like a teenage girl over what he should wear—he didn’t want Izzy to view him as her principal when they were outside of school hours—and also considered the distasteful notion of calling Wesley. He’d decided there was no need to get ahead of themselves, especially when Bex was so distrustful of him already.
But then he oversaw detention, went home, and started worrying about Izzy’s reaction to having him tag along with them, and what Bex would tell her. They hadn’t discussed how they’d explain his presence, and he didn’t want Izzy being turned against him by her mother, or getting confused as to his role in their life. They needed to make it clear that he wasn’t Bex’s new man-friend, however much he might like to be.
Did Bex even have man-friends?
Stop. Obsessing.
He had to get out of his head. Fortunately, the poker night he’d been invited to started soon. He changed into jeans and a t-shirt, shrugged into a jacket with high-visibility strips circling the waist, and cycled the dark streets toward the town square, which was comparably well-lit and bustling. He chained his bike to a streetlamp and headed into The Den.
The pub was busy, and a woman in her fifties, with long blonde hair, worked the bar. Perhaps she was Logan’s mother. She had that surfer-chick look about her. Or maybe he only thought that because the specials of the day were scrawled across an old surfboard. He maneuvered between the bar leaners and waited for her to finish with another customer.
“I’m here for poker,” he said.
“Ah.” She smiled broadly, her vivid blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “You must be Michael. Lovely to meet you. I’m Corinne Pride.” She offered a hand over the bar, and he shook it. “The boys are up the stairs to the left. Just let yourself in.”
“Thanks, Corinne.”
He followed her directions, closing the door that led out back behind him, and walking past a rack of wetsuits that had been washed and hung to dry near the foot of the stairs. The place still had the scent of saltwater he’d noticed last time he was there.
At the top of the stairs, he knocked once, then cracked the door open and called out, “Hello?”
“Come in.”
He entered. The upstairs apartment was more modern than the bar below, with wooden floors, off-white walls, and a spacious living area dominated by a massive rectangular table, around which sat four men. One of them, he recognized as Jack from the outdoor adventure center. To his left, through a doorway, he could see the kitchen, where Logan was mixing a bowl of something.
“Take a seat, I’ll be over in a second.”
Michael kicked off his shoes and headed to the table, where he sat beside a younger guy with a crew cut and glasses.
“Hey there.” The guy shook his hand, grip firm. “I’m Kyle. Logan’s brother.”
Michael squinted. He could see the resemblance. Kyle’s hair was shorter and his outfit tidier, but they had similar coloring and physique.
“I’m Michael, nice to meet you.” He extended the greeting around the table. One of the two men, a tall blond with sharp cheekbones, he recalled seeing at the yoga session at Sanctuary. The other, a stocky Maori guy with tattooed arms and a beard, he hadn’t met before.
“I’m Sterling,” the blond said. “You look familiar.”
Michael nodded. “I saw you at yoga a few days ago.” He turned to the bearded guy. “And you are?”
“Tione.” He didn’t offer a hand.
“You guys all live in Haven Bay?”
They nodded.
