Page 63 of Undertow
“Have dinner.”
Julia deflates when I shrug. She releases my hand, but there’s something besides hurt in her demeanor. It’s the “something” I was hoping for.
When she glances at the microwave, pretending to check the time, I know my latest ploy worked—no matter how much I wish it hadn’t.
“We can take this to go. I need to get to work,” she says stiffly. “So do you.”
I do. And if all goes to plan, that’s where I’ll get a new assignment that will crush both of us.
The only thingdistinguishing the “general store” from any other convenience store is the vintage fridge filled with old-fashioned bottles of soda.
Everything else—the snacks, toiletries, and other basic tourist necessities—are the same items that could be found anywhere off the island. Well, everything except the PalmettoGrande Resort-branded memorabilia. I can’t help a small smile at the keychains, postcards, and other dust collectors that most definitely werenotproperly licensed or sanctioned by the McArthurs. They’re cheap and cheesy. A blatant F-U to their enemies, I guess.
Also, the “general store” is cash-only, too.
“Shaw, you got a sec?” Adrian asks as he locks the front door for the night.
Julia wasn’t kidding. Fridays must be a big day for them, although it was hard to tell if the flood of eager tourists were coming or going. In an effort to be as invisible as possible, I generally make it a point not to chat with people outside of my targets. The less people notice or remember me the better. I save all the charm for the missions… and preserving my own neck.
“Sure, yeah.”
I wipe my forehead with the edge of my shirt and follow Adrian to the backroom of the store. The place is air-conditioned, but, like everywhere else in Undertow, there’s a staleness to the air that makes it feel old and uncomfortably warm.
I’m not surprised to see Mama H and Julia waiting for us. They must have come in through the back door, and my pulse accelerates at what I suspect is coming.
“Hello, Shaw. Good to see you,” Mama H says.
I scan them as discreetly as possible, searching for any clues that could help me.
“It’s come to my attention that Scarlett McArthur has taken an interest in you,” Mama H says.
Well, that was fast. And while it is exactly what I was hoping for, “fake poet Shaw” would feel shocked and betrayed that Julia ran to her mother with his secret the second it dropped. I shoot a hurt look at Julia on his behalf, and she averts her gaze.
“Yes, but…” I shift nervously, fishing for the sympathetic look I get from Mama H.
“It’s okay, darlin’. You’re not in trouble. In fact, this could work out very well for our plan.”
“It could?” I squint back at them.
Neither Adrian nor Julia will look at me, so I know this conversation is going where I expected when I planted the news about Scarlett.
“We know we’re already asking a lot of you, but this could be a golden opportunity to get close to the McArthurs,” Mama H says.
“What do you mean?”
“Imean, we would like you to encourage her attention. We would like you to get close to her.”
I pull in a sharp breath. “You want me to seduce her?”
“Seduce her? It doesn’t sound like you will need to do much seducing, honey.” She adds a sly smile that’s probably supposed to lighten the moment, but fake Shaw has nothing to smile about. Fake Shaw has never done something like this, used and manipulated.Beenused.
Something twists in my chest when I catch the lingering guilt on Julia’s face. Everything in me wants to soothe her clenched fist in reassurance.
It’s okay. This is what I wanted,mygame piece in play, not yours.
Except it’s not what I want. Never what I want.
“I thought we were pretending I was with Julia.”
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