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Or the pantry.

But that was beside the point.

Mason gave me an inscrutable look. "Good thing you're immune, huh?"

"No. I'm not immune," I said. "But Ihavecome to my senses. I mean, seriously, there's such a thing as dignity, you know."

The words had barely left my lips when I heard a sultry female voice call out from somewhere in the distance, "Mason?"

I stiffened. That voice – it sounded eerily familiar.

But no, it couldn’t be.

"Oh, my God!" the voice squealed. "Itisyou!"

With growing dread, I looked toward the sound. Unless I was mistaken, it was coming from the other side of the river.

Sure enough, someone I knew all too well was standing on the back patio of the mansion directly opposite us.

At the sight of her, I stifled a curse – and not akid-friendlycurse either, but arealcurse, the kind that sailors make when their ships collide with sea monsters.

I heard myself say, "Livia?"

Chapter 36

Cami

Oh yeah. It was Livia alright.She was standing on the back patio of the same mansion where that unfortunate nanny had been forced to crawl through the window, however many weeks ago.

But it was definitely Livia.

She was wearing a short black skirt, black ankle boots, and a tight white blouse with a very high neckline.

I watched in growing confusion as she gave us a big smile and a friendly wave.

When I gave her a tentative wave back, she called out, "Cami? Is that you?"

Before I could even think to answer, she strode toward us, stopping only when she reached the edge of the river.

With a laugh, she called out over the darkened water. "Funny seeingyouhere!"

Yes.

It was.

And I couldn't help but notice that she'd called out to Mason first. When I turned and gave him a perplexed look, he appeared to be just as delighted as I was.

Under his breath, he said, "Fuck."

No kidding.

But I didn't say it, because I'd been cursing far too much already. And yet, Ididfeel like it.

The last time I'd seen Livia had been in Petoskey.

After that night at the club, we hadn't parted on the best of terms. Afterward, we'd played telephone tag for maybe a week until she'd left me one scorcher of a voicemail informing me that I was – in her words – a "total ingrate" for not accepting the job at her dad's jewelry store.

Considering that I was never offered the job – not officially, anyway – her message seemed more spiteful than anything.