Page 20 of Cakewalk
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Outside,Jade and I walked past the quiet parking lot. She glanced at the offerings, cocking her head.
“Trying to figure out which ride is mine?” I guessed.
“The Prius that’s missing a hubcap certainly isn’t it.”
“Yeah. Bit tight inside for me.”
She turned her eyes to the next vehicle. “An Oldsmobile? They still make those?”
“I don’t think they do.”
“Those are veteran plates.”
“It definitely can’t be mine, then.”
She crossed her arms and beheld the last pair of wheels. “A motorcycle. I guess Mr. Martello is getting wild in his old age.”
“Nope. That one’s mine. Mr. Martello must be the Oldsmobile.”
She gawked at me, the same way she did when she saw my tattoos. “They let CEOs ride around on motorcycles? Isn’t that a huge liability?”
“Nobody gets to ‘let’ me do anything anymore. They just have to deal.” I paused. “You’re not one for taking risks, are you?”
Jade put a hand on her hip and tried to look offended. “I take all sorts of risks. Like walking down a sidewalk with a three-tiered cake. Or like wearing a ridiculously short dress with too high of heels, just begging to sprain an ankle.”
“So you’re definitely not one of those girls who gets hot over a motorcycle.”
“I mean, maybe I am!” It seemed she was trying to convince herself more than me that she could be fun. “I just need to get used to the idea.”
“And where’s your ride?”
“I walked here. Mr. and Mrs. Davidson’s place is only a few blocks down. I don’t have a car, but everything’s close if you live downtown, and I can borrow my sister’s truck for the occasional appointment. Butanyway, you said you had some place planned for our spicy liaison.”
I nodded and held out my elbow for her. “It’s a short walk. I spotted it through the windows.”
She frowned at me, no doubt going through her mental map of the town to try to figure out where in the hell I might be taking her that I could see through the windows. She gave up, then wrapped her arm around my elbow.
We walked down the wide sidewalk that bordered the beach, the only light coming from the moon and street lamps. The ocean waves lapped gently against the beach and pier, the breeze soft enough to be nice rather than cold.
I stopped once we reached an ocean park with a large fountain, twice as tall as me. The water remained still, the pump off.
“This fountain’s a century old,” Jade said, and we peered into its stone basin at all of the coins inside.
“Is it broken?” I asked.
“No, they turn it off at night. Guess they want to save on electricity or something.”
“Well, this wasn’t the mood I imagined.” I looked around and spotted a nearby utility box.
When I went for it, Jade followed, whispering, “What are you doing?”
I opened the box. Whoever did maintenance never bothered to lock it. “I’m setting the mood.”
“For what?” she gasped, and I think she was starting to get it now.
“Nobody’s out here in a mile radius, no one who’s awake, anyway. But Calhoon won’t be this dead forever—not if I have something to do with it. So let’s take advantage while we can.”
