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Story: The Lemon Drop Kid
“Why would he?”
“Maybe he thinks there’s something not right.”
My heart started that familiar panicky pound. “Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
“I do,” I said hotly. “He’s still trying to prove that I’m guilty and Astrid only took the blame to sa—”
To my astonishment, Dax half-rose, leaning across the table and speaking loudly into my face. “Shut up, Casper.”
I shut up, blinking up at him. Dax sat back down. He met my eyes, shook his head. “Like people aren’t stupid enough? You have to plant ideas in their brains? Get a fucking grip on yourself.”
I clenched my jaw. Stared at the booths and tables full of laughing talking people who looked away the minute they met my eyes. Not that I was trying to catch anyone’s gaze. One of the things I’d learned during my incarceration was to keep my head down. Both literally and figuratively.
Anyway, what did I care what any of these assholes thought or said?
These were the same people who had been here eleven months ago and would probably be here eleven months from now—elevenyearsfrom now. Not me. I needed to get out of this place. I needed to break free. Start over. I deserved to be happy and I could never be happy here again. Not now. Not with these people. Not with these memories.
Dax was still staring at me. He said abruptly, “Do you honestly think hewantedyou to be guilty?”
I knew whichhewe were still talking about.
I said, “I think he didn’t care so long as he got his promotion.”
Dax’s dark eyes went wide. “Dudley Do-Right? You think he threw you to the wolves because he was bucking for promotion?”
I said nothing. Bitterness superglued my throat shut.
“I’m genuinely shocked.” Dax sounded more thoughtful than shocked.
I curled my lip.
“Seriously.”
I stared down at my drink. If Ididstay at Bredahl, I was going to talk to Carl, our master baker, about creating a lemon drop cupcake. Maybe we could use real limoncello in the recipe for an extra zing.
“I mean, you guys were good together,” Dax was saying. “Really good. With your dogs and your camping trips and that wholeNational GeographicLL Bean thing you had going on.”
I took another swallow of my drink.
“Honestly, I was a little jealous.”
I said scornfully, “The hell you were.”
“I’m serious. You guys were cute.”
Yeah, the well-known ingredient to lasting relationships: cuteness.
“And you, you practically had stars in your eyes when you looked at him.”
I really didn’t want to hear this.
But Dax kept yakking away. “And the way he looked atyou. Like that block of ice in his chest melted every time you walked into the room. He could barely keep his suspenders up.”
I almost laughed. Needless to say, Raleigh did not wear suspenders.
“The way he teased you. Like you were adorable. I kid you not. I was so fucking jealous. Headoredyou. In his buttoned-down-knotted-up-a-boy-scout-has-but-one-life-to-give way.”
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