Page 27 of Tipping Point

Jay shrugs and moves a small side plate to cover the stain.

We laugh again. We are both drunk.

“Finn’s doing good,” he says unexpectedly.

Surprised, I cock my head.

“Well,” he continues, “at Barcelona, I filmed him in the pits after the race. You were with Evan at the podium. He smiled.”

I snort. “No way.

Jay laughs. “He did, I swear.”

“Proof, or it didn’t happen.”

We’re laughing and it occurs to me I could ask him. I could speak to the source, as they say. My alcohol addled brain is delighted at my resourcefulness.

Under the table I drop Irish a text.

CAMILLE (21:56) I heard you smiled!

He texts back almost immediately.

IRISH (21:56)?

CAMILLE (21:57) In Barcelona. After the race. I have it from a reputable source that you actually smiled.

IRISH (21:57) Are you drunk?

I snort. I am beyond drunk. I am shitfaced.

I’m finding it hilarious, and I show Jay the texts and we laugh together, ordering another round of tequila.

My phone rings. It’s Irish.

Shit.

“What do I do?” I ask Jay helplessly.

“Shit, don’t ask me.”

“I’m gonna ignore it.” I nod my head. It’s a good plan.

IRISH (21:59) Answer the phone.

CAMILLE (21:59) Don’t tell me what to do.

The phone rings again and I’m giggling, but Jay snatches it and answers.

“Hi, Mr Brennan. It’s Jay.”

I burst out laughing. “You call him Mr Brennan?”

Jay shrugs helplessly but his eyes are narrowed in concentration as he listens to Irish on the phone. He jumps up to read the name of the restaurant on the overhead awning and gives it to Irish.

It spurs me into action. I leap up to snatch the phone from Jay, but when I put it to my ear, the line is already dead.

“Shit.” I grab Jay by the front of the shirt. “What did you say to him?”