“Fuck, I can’t follow you two. You make my head spin.”

“Please, Heath. I promise I’ll tell you everything when I can. But, you know…the NDA.” I threw that out there as the dumbest excuse, hoping he’d swallow it.

He didn’t. “Yeah. Whatever. Listen, I’ve told you now and I’ll tell you again, I don’t like what all this has done to you. I still think he’s yanking you around and I don’t like it. Now he’s got you thinking you’re his girlfriend instead of his call girl.”

My chest tightened and I cleared my throat. “Not at all. We aren’t dating and there’s been no discussion about boyfriends or girlfriends or whatever. And I’ve already decided that once I get back from the Caribbean we aren’t going to see each other again.” Some unknown force coiled itself around my chest and tightened when I finally gave voice to the thoughts that had preoccupied me for the previous few hours.

Heath paused. “And he knows that?”

I squeezed my eyes closed and uttered the lie in a completely normal tone of voice. “Yeah, sure. He agrees with me.”

“And you aren’t going to sleep with him?”

“No.”

“So you aren’t going to see him again. You aren’t going to sleep with him. Why are you even going on the trip?”

I cleared my throat. “Because I promised I would.”

“I still don’t get it. But if you do end up letting him sleep with you, just remember the old saying about buying the milk when you can get the cow for free.”

“Shut the hell up. I’m not a cow.” I laughed, but the laugh had a manic quality about it, like I was on the edge of some weird kind of panic.

***

For Sunday evening family dinner, we made it to Adam’s uncle’s house early. Britt and her family had not yet arrived. Uncle Peter had the fixings for beef and chicken kabobs lined up to barbecue and I helped him spear them onto the sticks in preparation for cooking. Within minutes Adam pulled himself away to deal with a “quick issue at work” over the computer.

I was concentrating on pushing slimy pieces of raw chicken onto the wooden stakes without gagging. Raw chicken always grossed me out.

“So how’s the studying for your MCAT coming along?” Peter surprised me by breaking his usual silence to make conversation.

“Oh. Not so good. I keep getting distracted.”

“You need to tell him to leave you alone so you can study.”

I smiled, popping a cherry tomato onto my stick. “Oh, I can’t blame it all on him.”

“Adam’s a wonderful boy and I love him like he’s my son. He is my son in many ways. But he can be overbearing sometimes.”

That was an understatement. I picked up a chunk of sweet onion and kept going. “I’m not going to argue with you about that.”

“He’s strong willed. Always has been. It’s how he’s gotten where he is. But you are going to have to get tough with him when he gets like that with you. He’ll respect you for it.”

I suppressed a smile. My standing up to him aggravated him more than it engendered any respect, as far as I could tell.

“I hope you stick it out,” said Peter after a long pause. “He’s happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

My face burned, and I suddenly wished he’d change the subject. “That’s good to know,” I said quietly. “So, how many of these chicken kabobs am I making?”

And with relief, the subject was ditched. A good thing, too, because the doorbell rang and Adam called that he would get it. A few minutes later, he entered the kitchen with Lindsay and some younger man I’d never met.

I hadn’t known that Peter had invited his work colleague or I would have prepared myself for the casual gutting with the eyes she usually tossed my way. I took a deep breath and pasted on a fake smile. Lindsay didn’t bother, but moved up beside Peter, gave him a kiss and handed him a bottle of wine. “Thanks for having us over. It’s been ages.”

As usual, she was put together impeccably. Flawless makeup, beautiful clothes. She wore spiky heels and a designer dress—for a family barbecue. She was poised, elegant. I felt awkward and tomboyish next to her. And though she’d never been openly hostile to me, I also felt defensive around her—and downright aggressive whenever she went within three feet of Adam. Which, unfortunately, was often. And that wretched habit she had of touching him. It made my blood pressure soar.

After our kabobs by the pool, Adam quickly excused himself to take yet another phone call. Inside the house, I wandered down the hall to look at William’s figurines again. He wasn’t in the room but I hoped he wouldn’t mind my getting a closer look.