Page 58 of Fault Lines
Jake and Cam strolled over, arm in arm, beers suggested and accepted. Cam disappeared toward the concessions with Jake.
April flopped down on her towel next to mine. “Let’s take a break,” she said, pulling out a towel and tossing it down.
I did the same, laying ours out side by side.
When the guys came back, ice-cold beers in hand, I took one and let Cam lower himself next to me.
I sipped. The beer was disappointing: stale, nothing like the one I’d had at Joe’s. Still, I drank it. It was cold, and it was beer, and that was enough.
I leaned into Cam, watching the lazy Saturday sprawl of people out on the lake. It might have felt peaceful, if not for the undertow of something else.
“So, Olivia,” Jake said. “What do you do?”
April cut in before I could answer. “No wait! Guess. He’s psychic.”
Cam raised an eyebrow. “What?”
April nodded, delighted. “Jake is scary-good at figuring out people. Usually knows what they do for a living within a few questions. Or none.”
I shifted, not crazy about this game.
Jake considered me, a smile playing at his lips. “You’re quiet. A bit reserved, but warm. You’re adventurous, but you like stability. I’m betting you’re a teacher.”
Cam actually laughed. I shot him a warning look.
“You’re close,” I said politely. “I thought I’d be a teacher, took all the classes, then changed tracks after a while.”
Jake grinned. “See? Not always right, but close.”
April chimed in. “But she was going to be a teacher. That’s pretty good.”
Jake pressed on. “So what do you do now?”
I opened my mouth, but Cam’s arm was suddenly around me, warm and heavy. “She’s my little homemaker,” he said, kissing my forehead. “She makes my life easier. Keeps everything perfect for me.”
A sick, stifled heat flashed through me. I wasn’t an accessory to Cam, let alone his housemaid. There were words for what he’d just implied, and none of them made me feel like a human being. I had a job. Maybe it wasn’t glamorous, but it mattered to me, and that had to count for something.
Jake must’ve seen the look on my face, because he pivoted. “I’m a lawyer,” he said, turning the spotlight. “Nothing crazy, just family law.”
“Divorces and custody, that kind of thing?” I asked, eager to redirect.
He nodded. “You would not believe the stories I hear.”
Cam seemed engaged again. “I bet divorce gets ugly.”
Jake agreed, shaking his head. “Oh yeah. Some real horror stories.”
A new voice called out. “Hey Jake! April!” A man and woman strode over, sunburned and smiling.
“Charlie! I thought that was you.” Jake greeted him, friendly, relaxed.
“We’re just taking a weekend for ourselves,” Charlie explained, “while the kids are with their grandparents.”
April gestured at us, quickly. “These are our friends, Cam and Olivia.”
Charlie gave Cam a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
His wife nodded. “Sorry if we’re interrupting. We’re here to meet another couple—they’re waiting for us.”
