“God, I’m so frazzled,” she said. “You should have seen us trying to dock the boat.”
My mouth was dry. “What happened?” I asked.
“We almost beached it. It was like a comedy skit.”
Her phone rang. “Oh, hold on. I have to leave my ringer on in case Maddy gets in trouble trying to get back.” She looked at it. “It’s her.” She swiped and put the phone to her ear. “Maddy? Are you okay?” She listened for a second and then glanced at me. “Okay.” Then she hung up. She nodded over her shoulder. “Can we go down there really quick?”
“Sure.”
She turned and started back the way she came. We made our way around the side of the enormous house until we had a view of the lake.
There was a short brown-haired woman in a pontoon just offshore. She raised binoculars to watch us.
“Is that her?” I asked.
“Yeah, that’s her,” she said, looking amused. “She must have found those in the boat. Go!” She made a shooing motion with her hands. “Call me when you’re docked!”
She turned back to me shaking her head. “I think she wanted to see you.”
I gave Maddy a wave over Emma’s shoulder and the woman’s smile vanished. Then she dragged a finger across her neck in the universal sign for I’ll kill you.
I blinked.
Emma saw my face and turned back around to see what I was looking at, and Maddy beamed and waved enthusiastically at her best friend.
Okay…
Emma came back to me with a smile. “So. Ready to go?”
“Uh, sure?”
We walked to the car and I jogged ahead of her and opened her door. After she got in I went around the back to the driver’s side, too self-conscious to walk in front of her.
“I like your car,” she said when I got in. “I can’t believe you let Alex drive it.”
I let out a laugh that was probably too loud and turned on the engine.
She peered down at my drink holder. “You went to Starbucks.”
“Oh, yeah. I got us drinks. Here.” I picked up her salted caramel cold foam to hand it to her—and dropped it. It kerplunked in her lap and she caught it before it tipped sideways. The lid stayed on, but a little coffee splashed up out of the sipping hole onto her white shirt.
“Shit!” I breathed, looking around frantically for napkins. “Shit shit shit shit shit.”
“It’s okay, I’m fine,” she said, brushing the droplets off with her fingers.
Not a single napkin in the whole car. Nothing. I went to open the glove box and look in there and my hand grazed her knee. She jerked it out of the way.
Literally everything I’d done in the last sixteen hours since the minute I realized she was here was in preparation for this date. I’d made the questionnaire, typed up the invite, made plans and phone calls. I’d even cleaned my apartment—not that I thought she was coming back to my apartment. But on the off chance she wanted to see the billboard up close or meet Brad or something, I wanted it spotless. And now I wondered why I even bothered since none of the other stuff even mattered if I was just gonna come off as a fucking weirdo because I was so flustered.
I wanted to say, “I’m sorry, I’m so nervous.” But then I didn’t want her to know I was nervous. I wanted her to think I was calm and collected like I usually was on dates. But this date wasn’t like my usual dates, and not for the reason it should have been. The fact that this wasn’t really real, we were just trying some stupid experiment for the fun of it, should have made this less stressful. It wasn’t like I had to actually impress her. We were collaborators, she didn’t have to like me or even be attracted to me. But now I suddenly really wanted her to like me and be attracted to me, and even after all the things I did to make today special, I worried it wasn’t enough to compensate for me.
I rummaged through my glove box and cursed under my breath when I didn’t find anything.
“Justin, it’s okay,” she said, laughing a little. “I have wipes in my purse.”
Then I realized she’d moved her legs not because I’d accidentally touched her knee, but because she was getting her purse off the floor. She pulled out a baby wipe and started to blot the little stain. “See? Almost gone.” She finished and balled the wipe up and put it back into her bag. Then she picked up her drink. “Thanks for the coffee.” She took a sip. “I can’t believe you remembered. I can never remember anybody’s drink. I was a waitress once—I was so bad at it.”
I felt the corner of my lip twitch up, despite myself. I cleared my throat. “Let me text her and tell her we’re on our way,” I said, pulling out my phone.
“Her? Who?” she asked.
“My friend Jane. Benny’s girlfriend.”
I hit send and put on my seat belt.
“So what’s this activity?” she asked.
“Can’t tell you. Top secret. So,” I said, changing the subject, “has Maddy ever killed anyone?”
She pretended to think about it. “Nobody I can prove.”
I laughed nervously as I pulled away from the curb.
I felt like I was buffering with her sitting next to me. Like all I could do was loop around and around over the fact that she was here. I was physically willing myself to act normal. Be cool, Justin. Be. COOL. She’s just a regular person.
I glanced at her. She was definitely not just a regular person.
Thankfully she was not a nervous mess and she carried the conversation the next few minutes. Emma acting so comfortable and normal made me think she didn’t notice that I wasn’t comfortable and normal, and this helped me get ahold of myself. By the time we got to Benny and Jane’s, we’d fallen into the easy back-and-forth that we had on the phone, thank God, and I was mostly recovered.
