Enemy Dearest
“I just have a weird favor to ask, I guess.”
“And you couldn’t text it?” He runs his hands through his messy waves and his hair falls in a deep side part. “Wait. I can hardly see you. It’s super dark. Where are you?”
“In my car.”
“Just sitting in your car in the dark?” He climbs onto his bed and rests a tattooed arm behind his head. “Everything okay?”
“You have resources, right? Like you can find people?”
He sits up, almost choking on his words before chuckling. “Are you high right now? You’re acting so fucking weird, Sher.”
Sher. He’s never called me that before.
It’s always been Rose girl, which I’ve always attributed to the fact that I’m some kind of fetish to him so it’s some kind of turn on-slash-reminder.
“No, I’m not high. I just need to figure out who someone is. A name. I have initials. And I have a picture of her car,” I say. “I figured you might have more connections or you might know people who know people. It’s a stretch. But I wanted to ask.”
He’s sitting cross-legged now, one hand covering his mouth as he breathes over his fingers, examining me from his side of the screen.
“I think … I think my father’s having an affair, and I just want to know who this woman is,” I say. I don’t love the idea of sharing this fact with August. After all, his father would probably go to town with this little detail. But for some insane reason … I trust him. “Her initials are KT. I’ve seen them together a handful of times, but I haven’t gotten close. I just want to have all of my facts straight before I confront him so he can’t brush me off.”
“Jesus.” He mumbles through his fingers. “Is that why you look like you’ve been crying?”
My cheeks burn in the dark. I didn’t think he’d be able to notice.
“I had a moment, yes.”
He leans against his headboard, shaking his head as he stares off. “I don’t know much about your situation, but I do know that cheaters never come clean unless they’re caught red-handed. Having a name isn’t going to do you any good. He’ll deny it. They avoid confrontation like the plague—it’s partly why they cheat. They’re allergic to the art of breaking up with people. Deep down, they’re cowards.”
A month ago, the word coward would have never sat beside my dad’s name in a sentence.
“And you know this from experience?”
“Psh. I’ve witnessed it first-hand all of my life.” He’s talking about his father. I should’ve figured. “The man’s got it down to a science.”
That must be hard for August, having grown up with the revolving door of women his father whisks in and out of their lives, each a reminder of his irreplaceable mother.
“Do you think you can find her?” I ask.
“Send me the pic. I’ll do my best.”
It’s getting late. “Hey, I have to go. My mom’s waiting for me. Let me know if you find anything okay? Anything at all.”
I swear a flash of disappointment registers on his face, but it’s hard to tell for sure on a five-inch screen.
Maybe I’m imagining things …
“Sheridan,” he captures my name, my attention, and my breath with his booming voice.
“Yeah?”
“When can I see you again?”
“Soon, August.” My mouth inches up on one side. I bite my lip to make it stop. “Soon.”
“Good,” he says. “And just so we’re clear, my offer still stands.”
Chapter Nineteen
August
* * *
“Kara Tindall,” Uncle Rod says on the phone Tuesday night. “That KT person with the Mercedes. Name’s Kara Tindall. She’s twenty-eight. Local attorney here in town. That’s about all I got for you.”
Uncle Rod is my father’s youngest brother—and the guy we call whenever there’s trouble in paradise. He likes to refer to himself as an “old school fixer” though sometimes I think the man watches too much premium cable TV. Regardless, there’s no denying he can find out anything about anyone. He can sniff out liars and cheats from a mile away, like a bloodhound, and everyone who’s anyone in this town knows to give him a straight answer the first time he asks.
“Kara Tindall.” I sit up and grab a scrap of paper and pen from my desk and scribble it down. “You sure?”
“The hell kind of question is that?” He blows a puff of air into the receiver. “Of course I’m sure. Anyway, what’s your business with this lawyer lady? You in some kind of trouble?”
“Always.”
“Don’t be a dumbass.” He chuckles. At least someone in this family appreciates my sense of humor. “Let me know if you need anything else. You’ve got my number.”
“Will do.” I end the call and text Sheridan.
ME: Got the name for you. But I’d like you to come get it in person …
I’m teasing. Sort of.
Sheridan leaves for college in a few weeks.