Page 57 of Last Date

An uncomfortable silence followed my question.

Eventually, he gave a curt laugh. “No.”

He sounded insulted, and my face warmed. “It’s just, you were there, and then my tire was flat.”

“There were a lot of people in the parking lot that night. Why would you think I did that to you?”

Because you’re weird?

“I just wondered. I figured I’d clear the air.” I’d been wrong about it not getting more awkward. My pants falling down in public wouldn’t have been as awkward.

He sighed. “I thought you were different, but I guess you’re just like all the others.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You’re all constantly watching me like I’m a freak.”

I grimaced. “I don’t think you’re a freak. You are… unique.”

“Unique,” he repeated.

“I asked because it’s been bugging me. I accept your answer. If you say you didn’t give me a flat tire, I believe you.” I actually did believe him.

He pursed his lips. “Did you agree to that date with my brother because you liked him or because he was rich?”

Surprised at the question, I frowned. “I liked Allister. What I knew of him.”

He squinted. “I find that mystifying.”

“Why?”

“Because he wasn’t a good person, and you seem like you are.”

Lifting one shoulder, I admitted, “He was fun, and fun is sorely lacking in my life lately.”

“He’d have sold everyone in Pearl Cove down the river if it meant more money for him.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you know he bribed the city council to get that Ascot proposal through?”

Shock prickled me. “How would you know that?”

“Now that I’m in the inner circle, I know a lot more than I even want to.” He laughed humorlessly.

“It’s understandable you’d be bitter toward Allister. I’m sure him asking for a DNA test was humiliating for you.” I watched a flush rise from his throat to his cheeks.

“But he was wrong, wasn’t he? My DNA matches my father’s. I’m Elon, just like I said all along.”

“Yes.”

“The precious Green family blood pumps through my veins, much to the chagrin of a lot of people.”

“Did you hate Allister?” I asked breathlessly.

“No. But he hated me.” A weird smile touched his lips. “If you could have seen his face when I returned home. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

“Well, in all fairness, most people thought you were dead.”

“If your brother returned home after twelve years, would you slap a court order on him? Or would you celebrate?” He looked up at a swarm of seagulls squawking above us. “I think you’d be celebratory. I think you’d be happy. Allister was neither of those things.”

Sighing, I said, “I’m sorry.”