Page 61 of Beach Bodies

For a while, we study our menus in silence, and then the server is back with our drinks. ‘Are you ready to order?’

‘I’ll have the steak frites. Medium rare,’ says Daniel.

‘I’ll take the halibut, please.’

The server whisks our menus away, and we’re alone again.Daniel stirs his orange concoction with the tiny straw, then sips. I swirl my whiskey but don’t drink any.

I crook a finger at my lips, taking care not to disturb my lipstick. ‘I read some of your articles.’

He gives me a blank look.

‘You know. InFit Life. They have some copies in the lobby.’ I wait, curious to see how he’ll respond. Will he own it? Or reveal he didn’t actually author them? There’s a small shift in Daniel’s expression, from blank surprise to studied neutrality. I steeple my fingers.Your move, buddy.The jazz pianist does an impressive run in the background, and the room explodes into clapping, but my attention on him doesn’t waver.

‘I’m flattered you sought out my writing,’ Daniel finally says, when the applause has died down.

I can’t believe he’s not defending himself! Unless… is it possible he doesn’t know how awful they were? Maybe he borrowed the real Daniel Black’s name without reading the guy’s most recent work. If one can call that shitsmear of words on paper ‘work’.

‘I had no idea you’d slept with that many women,’ I say, shaking my head as if in wonderment.

Daniel stops mid-sip with his margarita and I feel a surge of triumph.Now we’re getting somewhere.

‘Not that I’m judging you,’ I add. Unexpectedly, I’m having the teensiest bit of fun right now. ‘Anything for journalism and the pursuit of truth, right?’

Daniel sets down his margarita slowly and dabs his mouth with a cloth napkin. I can almost see the thoughts racing through him. So the maniscapable of being rattled.

‘I found you in the hotel’s system,’ he says suddenly.

Now it’s my turn to choke on a little bit of my drink. I could ask,How did you get into the hotel’s system?Except that it’s not hard to imagine how easy it would be. Daniel has already interviewed Vic. Assuming this interview took place in Vic’s office, an observant person such as Daniel couldn’t have missed Vic’s Post-it note with his username and password, stuck to the side of his computer.

‘Yeah,’ Daniel continues, raking a hand through his hair, almost like he’s nervous. ‘I was doing some research and… I came across your name.’

‘I told you I work here every summer,’ I say evenly.

‘I mean, I found you as a guest. Your reservation with Jessica. Five years ago.’ He leans forward. My heart is thundering. ‘I didn’t realize the two of you were here together.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Enough swirling of my drink. I knock back a big, burning swallow.

Daniel leans across the table, and even though my guard is up, I have to admit that he doesn’t seem coldly questioning. He’s calm and curious. In the deep, probing, rough voice I’ve loved all along he says, softly, ‘Why do you keep coming back, Lily?’

Wouldn’t you like to know, I think. Instead I say, ‘You already asked me that.’

‘At the Mambotel,’ he acknowledges. ‘Sun. Sand. A break from Cincinnati.’

Shit, this guy is a memory machine.

I purse my lips as I consider my response. ‘That wasn’t a lie. There’s just… more to it.’ I make a sweeping gesture. ‘This is where happy memories of Jessica live.’ Not quite the truth. Those ‘happy memories’ are mixed at best. Still. Let him think I’m here to relive the joy.

The server is back with our food. Daniel’s fries are thin and crispy, and I’m suddenly ravenous. My halibut is a milky, buttered fillet over barely wilted spinach greens. I’m very tempted to steal a fry off Daniel’s plate, but I don’t.

‘You said you’re a reader. What are you reading?’ he asks, his focus now on the sharp knife he’s using to cut into his steak. I avert my eyes as pinkish blood oozes out of the thick piece of cow. I have the sudden urge to become a vegetarian. Or pescatarian? The halibut is very good.

‘Crime and Punishment.’

‘Really?’ He sounds impressed.

‘Don’t get too excited,’ I say drily. ‘Spy novels are much more my jam.’

He laughs, and a warm feeling spreads through my gut. I guess I like making Daniel laugh, whatever his last name may be.And whatever he may think I’m doing here.Which I don’t have a 100 per cent grip on. But there’s still time…