Page 43 of Crazy in Love

“How do you know that’s what happened then?”

“We didn’t find out until our senior year. Heather and Alex had become friends by then, and Heather told Alex what had happened to make her stop being so mean.”

“Whatever.” He shook his head. “We’ve derailed. Back to my thing. This might all get done via email, but if I have to go to Boston, could you drive me?”

“Depends on when. I’ve got that Weekend Warrior campout coming up.” She switched to her mocking, motherly tone. “Sounds like you were a good boy. You wanna get ice cream?”

He huffed as she ruffled his hair. “Yes, please.”

Two days later, when he arrived at the coffee shop, Faith was sitting with a strange man. Nick knew almost everyone in town and immediately pegged the guy as an outsider. He got his coffee and sat two tables over, where he could hear their conversation.

“That’s not what you said on your profile,” Faith said to the guy.

“What profile?”

“Your dating profile. On the Match Me app.”

Nick wasn’t even pretending not to listen anymore. This was getting good.

“Huh? I’m not on a dating app.”

Faith pulled out her phone and tapped a few times. “Who’s this then?” She faced the screen toward the man, whose brows narrowed in disbelief.

“Also, how do you think we met?” Faith cast a furtive glance around the room, catching Nick’s eye as he smothered a smile.

“My mom is friends with yours. They set us up.”

“My mom died a month ago,” Faith said quietly.

Confusion, realization, and finally consternation ran across the guy’s face. “This has my mother written all over it. She must have set up a fake dating profile and has been impersonating me. I don’t believe it!” He plowed a hand through his hair. “Scratch that. I do believe it.”

“Oh,” Faith said.

The stranger took a deep breath. “I’m real sorry about your mom. And you seem very nice, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a homicide to commit.”

“Justifiable.” Faith nodded. “Before you kill her, tell your mom it was nice chatting with her.”

Nick choked back a laugh. Faith watched as the man stormed out the door. She picked up her coffee and walked over to his table.

“When they say it’s a jungle out there, they aren’t kidding,” she said, sitting across from him. Her skirt came up to mid-thigh, and he had a hard time looking away as she crossed a pair of slender, shapely legs.

“How far do these men drive to meet you?” he asked, snapping his attention back to her face.

“Oh, they come from all over.” She took a swig of coffee. “It does surprise me sometimes how far some are willing to travel.”

“They do it because you’re pretty, Faith.”

“You think so?” She smiled.

“I’m a man. Trust me.”

“I mean, I’m not complaining.” She shrugged. “Better they meet me on my home turf than me driving all over New Hampshire. This is safer too.”

His phone rang, and he held up a finger to shush her. It was Dr. Butler, calling to confirm the bad news.

“There’s definitely a chunk of something—I’m betting on bone—that needs to come out. Sooner the better, so you don’t end up with a permanent limp.”

“Have you emailed the results to Boston?”

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