Page 53 of Between Hello and Goodbye

“Don’t I, though,” she purred.

I coughed. “Friends, remember? This is hard enough.”

“Is ithard?”

“Dammit, woman,” I said gruffly, on the verge of being exactly that. Being around Faith, my entire body felt like it was on call, ready to react or move or respond to her the instant she said the word.

“I’m sorry,” Faith said, not looking a bit sorry. “I’ll behave. I’m just in a good mood now that I’m on the mend. But to be fair, you don’t make it easy for me, sitting there, looking like you do.”

“Likewise,” I muttered, our eyes meeting over the small table.

Now it was Faith’s turn to shift in her chair. It heated my blood even more to know I got under her skin the way she got under mine. That this game we were playing wasn’t one-sided.

“Here we are.” Kyoji appeared and set down our plates—stuffed mushrooms for Faith and tofu chermoula for me. “Enjoy, my friends.”

“Thanks, Ky,” I said, and Faith and I dug in, both channeling our attention to our food. Safer that way.

“Okay, I’m sold,” Faith said after a moment. “This is incredible.”

“Kyoji’s a master chef. Self-taught.”

“Hmm,” Faith said. “But we were talking aboutyourjob. About whether you have aspirations for leadership. When are the lieutenant tests?”

I speared a purple potato samosa with my fork. “Not sure I’m going to take them.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t know that I want the job. I like where I am.”

Faith stared. “Hold on, your boss wants to promote you but you’re not sure you’re up for it.” She tapped a fingernail to her chin. “Gee, this soundssofamiliar…”

“It’s not the same thing as your situation.”

“Are you sure? Because it sounds exactly the same as my situation.”

“You don’t know if you want the responsibility. I do but…it’s hard to explain.”

“Give it a whirl.”

“I…it’s childhood BS. You don’t want to hear it.”

“I actually do,” she said. “Me of two weeks ago wouldn’t have put herself in the position to hear personal, private stuff. Moreover, she wouldn’t havewantedto hear it. Because being confided in is also a kind of responsibility, one that shouldn’t be taken lightly. But the me of today?” She smiled, almost shyly. “She’s all ears.”

My fingers drummed the table. Only a handful of people knew what Morgan and I had endured as kids, but the more I kept it private, the more it ate at me. I’d shoved it in the dark, hoping to let it die, but it’d come out in coke parties and weekend benders back in New York. I’d gotten over all that shit—being in Kauai was my rehab—but that old anger was still there, like a low-grade fever that never completely subsided. Always there, ready to flare up.

But that wasn’t the kind of crap I wanted to lay on Faith.

She doesn’t need to carry around your baggage for the five days she has left.

“It’s not a big deal,” I said finally with a shrug. “Morgan and I had to move around a lot as kids. The experience left something in me that’s always ready to get up and go if I need to. If I take the promotion, I’ll be more entrenched.”

It was the truth—a boiled-down, harmless version, maybe, but still true.

“I thought you loved Kauai,” Faith said slowly, and I could see the gears turning behind her sharp eyes. “I thought you were here to stay.”

“I am,” I said. “But…it’s nothing. An irrational feeling. I’ll get over it someday. Hell, I’ve only been on the team for a few years, anyway. Plenty of time for advancement later if I want it.”

Conscious that I was on the verge of rambling, I grabbed my drink and took a long pull to shut myself up. Faith watched me and then turned to her food. Maybe I was getting better at reading people too, or maybe it was just Faith, but I was starting to notice the small changes in her expressions—what a tilt of her chin meant and how to gauge the various degrees of her stunning smile. Judging by the tightness around her lips and the way she didn’t look me in the eye—a rarity—she knew there was more to my story, and it stung her a little that I wouldn’t share it.