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“Da-vid,” Christine said slowly.
“That’s what I’m saying.David.”
“David!”Kassandra snapped.
“Why don’t we put the TV on?”Millie’s dad suggested.
“What is happening right now?”I said to Bobby.“Am I going crazy?”
“Maybe let it go,” Bobby said.
I didn’t know what to let go—I didn’t even know what was happening—but it turned out to be a moot point because at that moment, Christine said, “I think we should all be thankful that everyone has a good job right now.David’s a musician, and Elliott is a lawyer, and Paul is doing holiday deliveries, and Ryan just got made manager at Pirate’s Cove.”
“God,” David said, the words only vaguely directed toward Ryan, “I can’t imagine working with all those kids.”
Elliott adjusted his back-of-the-head sunglasses.“That’s got to be better than driving a delivery truck and playing on your phone all day.”
Paul and Ryan shot the boyfriends matching dirty looks.
“And Dash is a writer!”Christine announced.
“Not really—” I began.
“What have you written?”David asked.“I probably haven’t heard of it.”
(He beat me to the punch.)
“Writing issucha good hobby,” Elliott said.
“Is it?”I asked.
Bobby squeezed my thigh.Probably to keep me from levitating out of my seat, Matrix style, and kicking Elliott in the face.
“Dash is going to write me into his book,” Millie announced.“I’m going to be Jinx St.James, and I’m going to be Will Gower’s SIDEKICK!She’s tough and brave, and she doesn’t take crap from anybody.Right, Dash?”
Everyone looked at me.
“Um, well, we did have a conversation about that—”
“What about Keme?”Kassandra interrupted in a too-sweet voice.“Does he have a job?”
Angeline played with her napkin, not looking up as she said, “They’re hiring for after-school at McDonald’s.”
“KEME HAS A GOOD JOB!”Millie announced.“HE’S GOT A GREAT JOB!”
Which was news to me—and, judging by Keme’s face, news to him too.
“And I think a coffee shop isjust rightfor Millie,” Christine said.She seemed to remember the rest of us and said, “Oh, and Bobby’s adetective.”The little thrill rang through the room.“Tell them, Bobby.”But Bobby didn’t have a chance before she said, “Like Joe onBlue Bloods!It’s perfect, isn’t it, since Dash is a mystery writer?”
“Bobby isn’t a detective,” I said.“He’s a deputy.”
I didn’t bother to add that Bobby was also a verybusydeputy.In the year and a half since I’d arrived in Hastings Rock, the sheriff’s office had lost its former sheriff and one of its veteran deputies.And although Sheriff Acosta had won the most recent election by a landslide, there was only so much she could do about recruiting; it had been hard to find new deputies, and it left the office short-staffed—and my boyfriend overworked.
Everyone traded looks at my comment, but the penny didn’t drop until Bobby said, his gaze focused on some neutral part of the room that wasn’t me, “The position is still open.”
Several long seconds passed before I said, “What?”
“But it’s going to be Bobby,” Christine said.“We were all talking about it at church.”