Page 32 of I’ll Paint You a Sunset Someday

September 2045

Dean

“He looks guilty,” Hallee whispers, overly paranoid that her voice will carry.

“No, he looks nervous. There’s a difference.”

“Did you see the way he lowered his head before walking in? That man doesn’t want to be seen!”

She’s got me there. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he did duck down. Nothing goes unnoticed by Ann Arbor’s star detective, Hallee Sunshine.

“He was looking at the door handle.”

He wasn’t, but when I argue with her she defends herself in this adorable way where her eyes look sure. It’s one of the only times she looks like that.

Some people need to be liked; Hallee just needs to be understood. She cares too much—putting all of her empathy into the universe for others to freely take. We may never know the full extent of her impact in our lifetime, but she’s essential. Makes this world better just by existing.

I got a lesson about how differently we view things, laying here on the picnic blanket with her for hours. A circus of clouds floated across the sky, and Hallee swore she saw an elephant when I saw an obese man smoking a pipe. Laughed so hard that my side still hurts, but the disagreement smoothed over quite nicely once I agreed that most of her ideas were superior to mine.

Most.

I don’t lie, not even about the little things, and there were a few where she swore she saw a puppy when it was clearly a stack of donut holes. Yes, this was all going very well until I found the hill this woman would die on—interpreting clouds.

She grew tired of watching them, rolling to her stomach to watch the cars instead, and that’s when she saw him. Once she did, there was no going back. The FBI investigation immediately began . . . and will absolutely not close until this poor man walking into the jewelry store alone either pays or leaves.

His first offense? Being alone. How dare he.

His second offense? Wearing a baseball hat.

According to Hallee, it does a suspiciously excellent job of hiding his identity. Never fear, I did ask for clarification and we concluded that if he were with someone else, the hat would be acceptable. Being alone and wearing one? Criminal offense—unless it’s backwards, in which case he can do no wrong.

“That man is buying an apology diamond. What do you think he did?” she asks, gasping and leaning closer to me. This is an extremely delicate case, and she won’t risk being heard. Even if he’s across the street and inside.

“Dean, do you think he cheated?”

“Definitely.”

“Oh my gosh, then who is he buying it for? The girlfriend, or the other woman?!”

I inhale a deep breath, failing to fight off my growing smirk.

“Probably the other woman.”

“I knew it.”

Her eyes roll as she finally glances at my cocky grin.

“Don’t patronize me! If you have a better explanation, do share. It’s not like he’s buying a ring!”

“He could be!”

“You know he’s not, that’s not even funny.”

“Fair.”

The market for engagement rings dissolved into thin air alongside the hope of happily ever afters.

“Let’s name him John,” I say. “Johnny boy is madly in love and planning to shower his partner with a gift he knows they’ll enjoy.”

Come on, John. Don’t fail me now.

“No way. Too easy. Men don’t walk around buying shiny things for their partner without an explanation.”

“Maybe it’s an anniversary?” I counter.

She scoffs. “In a world where we start over every year? Try again.”

“Birthday?”

“Possible, but unlikely.”

“Why are you so sure he isn’t simply surprising someone he loves? There doesn’t always have to be an ulterior motive.”

“Oh, yes there does! Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Surprised the one you love? Because last I checked, I’m diamondless. So unless you love someone else—” Her suspicious eyes tease me.

“Oh no. Nope. Why do girls do this? Let’s not displace the facts. This isn’t about me, we’re talking about John.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

“ That’s not what you want, Hal. Flowers, quality time, back scratches, takeout coffee—all make you happier than a diamond ever could.”

“That is fair. But—” She casts the line, staring blankly until I bite.

“But what?” I ask, sighing because she’s the best fisher out there.

“No woman would ever turn down a shiny new thing, especially if it’s accompanied by a grand gesture.”

“Interesting.” So she might like it more than I’d originally thought, but I have to capitalize on her slipup. “Then you agree that maybe he is plotting a grand gesture.”

We’ll have to agree to disagree, because my woman never bows out of an argument. She did huff a little as her face fell, and that’s the closest I’ll get to her admitting defeat. This man’s fake profile is not going to say I’m a cheating asshole on my watch.

We were planning on grabbing some lunch, but Hallee can’t leave things unfinished. She has to know how this story ends or she won’t sleep for days, and John is quickly getting added to my shit list. I’m starving, and the man has been in there for over two hours.

Literally, why?

It’s very suspicious. The security guard thinks so too, because he steps closer to him every five minutes. Give it thirty more, and he’ll cuff him for loitering.

We’ve started taking shifts, keeping watch for checkout. It takes two shifts each before he finally pulls his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Hallee!”

Resting her eyes turned into a sunny afternoon nap. She wouldn’t be able to sleep at night without knowing what happens, but can sleep perfectly fine in the middle of trying to find out what happens. Complex, my Hal. Endearing, though, that she’s able to relax around me even in the middle of the park.

“Hallee, he’s checking out!”

Jolting awake, she springs up like a jack-in-the-box.

“Did I miss anything good?”

Detective Sunshine strikes again, forming binoculars around her eyes with her hands. A satisfied smirk raises on her face and oh—

“Do you see what I see?”

Shit. Come on, John. I was really rooting for you.

“Two! Items! Wrapped and bagged identically, but separately.” Rage bubbles in her voice, and her eyes widen as she whispers, “One for his partner, and one for the secret lover!”

“Now we don’t know that! It could be—”

“If they were for the same woman, they’d be wrapped together or wrapped in different colors so each one would still feel special.”

It’s cute, her little temper tantrum for the two women being done dirty by John. Honestly, whatever case I’d built was closed by the double bag. Someone update his bio.

“Alright, Hal, you’re right. The grand mystery of John has been solved. Let’s go get some food.”

We hit the sidewalk at the same time cheating John exits the store. Spinning around, Hallee snaps a Polaroid selfie of us. Sure enough, it develops the perfect picture of us smiling with John suspiciously escaping in the background. He’s even looking down, shielding his face behind his ball cap, and I’ve never been more impressed—Hallee’s judgment and timing are impeccable.