Page 16 of A Love Most Fatal
He sees me looking at him as I’m about to pass and his face lights up in recognition. I nod and look away, but he slides his phone in his pocket as he heads my way.
When he sidles right up next to me, I send Leo a look that translates roughly tothis is finebefore he thinks to interfere.
Of all the people here, I would guess that Artie’s math teacher is the least dangerous.
Today he wears an outfit much like the one he had on the last two times I saw him: a button-up with the top button undone, rolled at the sleeves, a tie pulled from his neck, black JCPenney dress shoes. The shirt isn’t fitted, unless he’s aiming for a sort of rectangular fit.
“Ms. Morelli,” he greets. “What a surprise.”
“Mr. G.,” I say. “Nice to see you again.”
He gives a sort of mock bow, his hands remaining in his pockets. “Come around here often?”
“Required attendance,” I explain. “Family mandate.”
“How supportive of you,” he says. His eyes are a striking green, and they flit to my face and then away, scanning around the gymnasium instead of meeting my eye directly even thoughheis the one who approached me.
“And you?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t have to come to the games, but middle school basketball is better than any professional sport. More inspiring, more exciting.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” We round the corner into the lobby. “Were you also in need of a mid-game soda?” I ask.
“Always,” he says. “But these booths live in the dark ages. Cash only.”
“Oh?”
He bobs his head in an exaggerated nod. “Luckily for me, I ran into someone who I have under good authority carries a number of large bills on her person at any given time.”
I would balk at the audacity of this man if he wasn’t also somewhat amusing.
“Very lucky for you.” We join the brief line outside of the concession booth.
“I just hope she knows that I would love a bag of sour Skittles,” he says and I can’t help it, this time, I laugh aloud. Leo’s head darts in our direction at the sound. “And a water.”
I’m next in line and repeat his order, adding on three cans of soda for me, Leo, and Sean. I get a sleeve of Starburst for Mary and Angel to share, and then I slip the goods into my bag.
I’m not entirely sure why I did what he said, maybe because I’m seldom ordered around and wonder how far he’ll take it. It’s not like I’m scared of him. I could kill this man in no less than a dozen ways, many of which with just my hands, but he seems harmless enough. It’s disarming. I don’t think he could hold his own in a fight, and that fact endears him more.
Nate pops a few sour Skittles into his mouth and his lips pucker at the taste. He wipes the powder from his fingers on the side of his slacks.
“I’ve got another favor to ask,” he says.
“Do tell,” I say as we walk down the track towards the other side of the court where everyone sits. Little squeaks of sneakers on the floor sound from the court below us.
He stops and leans on the rail looking over the court and I watch his eyes scan the students running back and forth. He’s nervous, I’m sure of it now. I can see it in the tension in his shoulders, the way he gnaws on the inside of his cheek.
“Hear me out,” he starts after draining a quarter of his water bottle. “There’s a wedding.”
I pride myself on my ability to school my face into an unfazed expression in all critical conversations. A vital skill. But I can’t control my eyebrows now, and they’ve shot halfway up my forehead, which is as alarming to Nate as it is to me because he rushes to continue:
“It’s my cousin Rex, and he’s the fourth cousin in my family to get married, and my parents are getting antsy that not only am I working with children instead of with investments, but I am also unmarried.”
“Oh, wow,” I say before I can hold back. It’s startling how much there is to process there, and I can barely begin to before he barrels on.
“So, you see, it’s a big deal that I go and tell my aunts and uncles that I work at a fancy private school now and an evenbiggerdeal that I bring a date.”
“Reasonable.” I’m lying, but I nod. We are both leaning against the railing and facing each other, and the scoreboard above our heads beeps.