Undertow

by Jen Greyson

  That wasn’t going to last long today, but I’d take my solace anywhere I could find it. I scanned my closet for something that would work for the treasure hunt later. If I was ready to go now, I could hide out until it was ready to do Stuart’s dumb event.

  Settling on a pair of purple running shorts, a light-knit tee in a softer shade, and hiking sandals, I covered it with a deep purple hoodie and slipped into my office through the side door.

  Last night during dinner, Stuart must have had live-feed monitors set up in the corner of my office. I rubbed my temple and turned abruptly toward my desk. Lord save me.

  Angling my computer so I couldn’t catch an errant shot of Mateo’s ass while he and Kat did their thing, I dug into the final draft of a contract as the cobalt sky melted into a sunrise. I emailed a contract off to McComb and stared at the blank screen for another fifteen minutes before finding enough courage to spin my chair toward the life feed.

  Mateo sat at the breakfast table, looking fresh and unaffected by last night’s escapade. Disheveled dark hair, sexy morning stubble, and his carefree attitude made my belly flip-flop. Then I pictured Kat running her nails through that hair this morning as he left the bed. Clearly, hauling a woman like Kat to bed was nothing out of the ordinary. Disappointment weighed down my limbs, but I wasn’t sure why. Was I disappointed that he’d taken her to bed, or that he looked unaffected?

  Or handsome.

  I leaned back in my chair as he loaded a plate with eggs and fruit, glancing over his shoulder with every scoop like he was about to get caught raiding the cookie jar. I cocked my head. What an odd behavior. He hurried to the table, barren save pitchers of juice and water. He pulled out a chair in the middle and sat, then made a leisurely meal of the goods on his plate. His eyes still darted to the entryway and I wondered if he was trying to catch a moment of peace.

  He sighed and buttered a steaming roll. The girls were either sleeping in, or had killed each other during the night. Perhaps a standoff at the freezer during a midnight ice cream raid? I smiled and watched the muscles in his jaw and the tilt of his lips as he ate.

  Kat appeared, looking not nearly as bad as she should. She hesitated at the foot of the table. “Mind if I sit down?”

  I leaned forward, my attention flicking between them. Odd behavior for a post-mating breakfast. I glanced at the stack of tapes Stuart had piled on the corner of the media table. One of them held the footage from last night, but I wasn’t brave enough to watch Mateo carry her into his bedroom. I jerked back to the monitor just as Mateo inclined his head in answer. Still chewing, his gaze didn’t linger long, but drifted down to his half-eaten pile of eggs. He pushed it away.

  I’d have to review the footage again, but now that I thought about it, I couldn’t remember him ever eating when we sat as a whole. He ate with me the day on the deck, but otherwise, he’d left his meals unfinished and constantly held either a wine or brandy glass. How bizarre. I chuckled. Did he have some sort of weird food issue?

  Kat rounded the table, but Mateo’s chivalry got the best of him and he jumped up to pull out her chair.

  She smiled up at him in thanks, turning the charm up a notch. It was impossible to ignore her chiseled beauty. Tragic really, that such a freakish monster lived inside.

  Mateo buttered another roll and eyed Kat like she’d explode any second. She made me jumpy through the screen.

  A waiter set a plate of fruit in front of Kat, but she didn’t thank him. “Nervous?”

  Shrugging, Mateo eloquently stuffed half the roll in his mouth, preventing an immediate response. I smothered my laughter. Okay, maybe he didn’t have food issues, just issues with silverware.

  Slicing a sliver of cantaloupe, Kat raised an eyebrow in question. I pulled my chair closer, eager to hear how he’d get himself out of telling her she was bat-shit nuts.

  He swallowed and took a long drink of his water, then filled his coffee cup and leaned back, the cup nestled between his forefingers and thumbs. “Wondering what makes a girl like you resort to a circus like this.”

  Kat’s body quivered with laughter and she pressed her finger against her lips until she could swallow her mouthful of fruit. “If you think this is a fiasco, you haven’t played the dating scene lately.”

  “I’m not one to play at much of anything.” Mateo still looked wary, and I didn’t blame him one bit. Who knew what set Kat off? Maybe she was just a crappy drunk.

  “That’s all dating is—Games. Lots and lots of games.” She set her fork on the linen tablecloth and twirled the juice goblet between her flattened palms. “I’m tired of games, I want to be able to get to know a guy when the cards are on the table. I’m so tired of thinking I know someone and then months into the relationship they let some glaring personality trait fly and by then I’m stuck. I’ve spent too much time to bail, and then I have to decide if I want to commit more time.”

  Did Mateo believe that line of bull? I sure didn’t. She was a mastermind when it came to games. And was she baiting him with that comment about cards? Just how much insider info did she have?

  Mateo nodded, but didn’t comment.

  Kat didn’t need his participation. She speared a grape and held it up. “Sometimes, I think being this beautiful is also a curse. The men courageous enough to hit on me are the conceited asses, and there’s only room for one diva in any relationship, and I decided long ago, that was my job.”

  I snorted and was glad I hadn’t been drinking anything. Puh-leese. Granted, she was a freaking diva. At least she’d gotten that part right.

  Kat popped the grape in her mouth. “Lately, I feel like I’ve been speed dating. You’ve got to cram your interview questions in between bites, and there’s no way to carry on a conversation during an opera or play.”

  A bit of culture, but was it only for Mateo’s benefit. Guess the interview atmosphere was a hard habit to break.

  She started speaking again, but I hit the mute button and watched the lower monitor trained on Mateo’s face. He seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. An act for the cameras?

  He wasn’t flirting with her and I remembered the girls’ perspective about how he acted with me. Was he that different with me? There was a lot of teasing, but I didn’t have anything to compare to... He did seem kind and interested in Kat, but had she burned her bridge last night?

  I sighed and turned away as Stuart swooshed through the main door. He stuttered to a stop, then grinned. “Like the new addition?”

  I groaned and moved my chair back behind the safety of my desk. “Not exactly.”

  “This way you’ll know what’s going on while you’re working.”

  I tried to smile. “Super.”

  He draped himself across the couch. “Ready for the hunt?”

  “Only if I get to be armed.”

  He laughed like I’d just dropped the joke of the decade. “You know I’m pairing you with Kat?”

  “Would’ve been surprised otherwise.” I didn’t keep the disdain from my voice.

  “You don’t sound excited.”

  I lifted one eyebrow. “Seriously? What would possibly make you think this was exciting?”

  He looked hurt. “I worked hard on this. You’re getting to see amazing parts of the city. While on camera.”

  I didn’t roll my eyes, but it took everything I had not to. He couldn’t be serious. “Can I opt out?”

  “Nope. Teams won’t be even.”

  I sighed and stood, then paced the length of the room as best I could in the brace. “What about this thing? It’s going to make walking around pretty tough.”

  “Got you scooters.”

  This time I did roll my eyes. “Fan-frigging-tastic.”

  He rose and stopped at the door. “I need to hand out team assignments. Be upstairs in fifteen minutes.”

  I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head.

  CHAPTER

  LEAVES RUSTLED OVERHEAD and the temperature blessedly dropped a few degrees as I drove
deeper into the tree-lined park. My scooter whined at the small incline and I leaned forward, twisting the throttle until the plastic strained. Deserted except for a few couples at the entrance to the park, the Florida grass and fauna grew in abundance, stretching tall and wide over the pathways. Based on the map, we’d needed to find the highest point in the park. I wasn’t sure if everyone had the same map or if Stuart had figured ways to stack the odds in our favor—but I was leaning toward the last since Kat and I hadn’t seen any other teams since leaving a half-hour ago.

  Humidity dampened every strand of clothing and my shorts stuck to my legs like we’d just showered together. I tugged the back of my shirt but only succeeded in rearranging the wrinkles pressed into my skin. I’d have to compliment Stuart on his choice of outing when I got back.

  Steak knife to the shin ought to do it.

  The quickest way back to a cold shower and air conditioning was to finish this stupid treasure hunt. I’d been ahead of Kat for the last five minutes, but my blessed solace couldn’t last long since she had the map.

  Ten feet away, a small bench sat nestled beneath a huge palm that overlooked the incline I’d just driven up. The scooters were barely faster than walking, but my ankle hurt today, so I didn’t mind. Not that I’d tell Stuart that. Somehow Kat’s scooter was half as fast as mine, which set her in a superbly collaborative mood right off the bat.

  I parked and hobbled to the bench where it faced the dirt road. Sweat trickled down the back of my knee and into my boot. I sighed and collapsed onto the worn boards. Kat turned the corner a few hundred yards below the start of the hill, saw me and coaxed her scooter faster, face contorted in a sneer.

  While the repercussions were going to suck, I grinned. Though outpacing her had nothing to do with my driving ability, I wanted to take credit and goad her about it. I had a feeling she’d tread lightly around me—either because I had power as a member of the legal team, or because I didn’t pose a serious threat.

  The whine of her scooter permeated the thick air, and she headed for my bench, not bothering to park by mine. Huffing, she got off and the bike wobbled, then fell sideways. She leapt out of the way.

  I chuckled. Okay... maybe I didn’t have to give my scooter any credit for beating her. She had less than no skill with them.

  “Not everyone is a professional biker.” With a glare, she marched over and flopped beside me, tugging off the small drawstring backpack. A sigh drew the tension from her shoulders and—for the moment—her anger. She inhaled again, tipped her head back, closed her eyes, and extended her arm, crumpled map in her outstretched hand.

  I hadn’t looked at the map yet. Kat had grabbed it immediately after Stuart assigned us as teammates. It hadn’t been worth arguing, and now she was proving me right.

  Without a word, I took it and smoothed it across my knees. I dug in my pocket for a slip of paper Stuart had slipped me, giving us a slight advantage. We had to hurry, the other teams would be here soon. I unfolded the list of clues and read the first one. “Start with what a priest would use in his garden at school.”

  Kat puffed out her cheeks and smoothed the damp hair off her forehead. “Okay, a priest school is a seminary. Is there a church or seminary close?”

  I scanned the map. “No, but here’s Seminary Way.”

  Kat sat upright, refreshed by our tiny win. “What’s the rest of the clue?” She craned her head and read the list. “In a garden.”

  “Here it is.” I stabbed the map with my finger. “Spade Street. It intersects Seminary Way.” I referenced a landmark from the map, twisting backward over my shoulder. I pointed further into the park. “It’s left of that clump of palms at the far entrance.”

  Kat stole the map back and took off with renewed energy. As she raced toward her tipped-over scooter, she stuffed the paper in her tiny bag and slipped her arms through. I folded the riddles on the run, hop-skipping toward mine.

  “Sangria.” The plea in Kat’s voice was unmistakable but I wasn’t about to help her. We might be a team, but she’d exploit my injury if it would give her the slightest advantage. Stuart would leave another clue for us, and the more of those I could beat her to, the better.

  “Sangria, please.”

  I hesitated and straddled my seat, then looked up. She wasn’t trying to lift it, just stood there glaring at it, hands on her hips as if she could will it to rise. They weren’t heavy. One good tug would get it upright.

  “I would,” I shouted across the space. “But, you know, leg.” I waved my fingers absently over my ankle as I set it up on the floorboard and zoomed away. Stuart hadn’t said anything about sticking together. Yes I was being a bitch, but not without warrant. Last night Kat made it clear she had no intention of sparing a single person to get what she wanted. The sooner she realized I wasn’t going to fall for either her manipulation or stand in the way, the better. I was going to outmaneuver, outplay, and outthink her at every step.

  I had to.

  Racing along the empty paths, I leaned further over the handlebars. A few strands of damp hair lifted off my neck and I stretched taller, trying to get the breeze to pick up a few more. Shadows and light crossed the park like a checkerboard and I sped through the strobing patches of sunlight. As I neared the end of the park, sounds of roaring motors and rumbling tires penetrated the thick foliage. While the park might be empty, the rush of noise beyond the green walls held promise of busyness. Were the other girls farther ahead, or were we on our first clue?

  My scooter bumped over a curb, startling a flock of birds. Most of them shot straight into the air and over the high fence, but one came straight at me and I ducked, sending the scooter into a mad wobble and through a small opening in the tall hedge. Pedestrians scattered as I burst onto the sidewalk. I squeezed the brakes and teetered to a stop.

  My heart pounded in my throat. I eased my fingers open and set my feet on the pavement. I had no idea what we were looking for, so I got off and turned a slow circle, eyes scanning every possible object for a clue.

  The park held the thickest collections of foliage, the opposite side of the road held only an empty lot and a small convenience store—not the stark contrast of buildings I’d expected. On the far side of the intersection, a trio of newspaper dispensers squatted in front of the store. Atop the middle one, a green paper fluttered, anchored in the middle by a rock. My stomach clenched and I narrowed my eyes. A piece of paper seemed pretty simple and honestly, anticlimactic.

  Beyond the convenience store, there was just a run-down old church with an overgrown cemetery patch beside it. Though the clue referenced digging and seminaries, I still had a gut-feeling that the paper was another. Nothing else stood out and the countdown clock ticked down each moment of my hesitation.

  Whether that paper had to do with us or not, I had to check it out.

  I glanced behind me. Kat righted her scooter and leapt on, lurching forward and fishtailing over the damp grass. I straddled mine. She’d get here soon enough and cross to meet me. By then, I’d know if the paper held anything important, or if we were still searching. Plus I’d have the small advantage of getting the info before her in case it yielded anything spectacular.

  Cars filled the intersection. Heated exhaust fumes curled upward and infused the already damp day with another layer of weight. I eased closer to the edge of the sidewalk, straining forward and willing the light to change.

  Behind me, Kat yelped but I didn’t take my eyes off the red light to see if she’d hit the same flock of birds.

  “Sangria!”

  The light finally clicked green and I twisted the throttle, lurching into the crowded intersection. Three pedestrians filled the crosswalk and I swerved around them, barely missing the bumper of a green Subaru. Eyes glued to the paper, I steered myself back over the curb, leaned as far as I dared and snatched it, then gunned my little scooter through the clusters of people.

  Halfway up the block, I slowed in front of the crumbling church. Brown bricks rose behind iron fe
ncing, choked with ivy and weeds. Sweat dampened my palms. I braked and set my good foot on the ground, then wiped my hand on my shirt and flattened the paper.

  Before I could make out a single word, Kat wrenched it from my grasp. Her scooter squealed to a stop six feet away. She managed to stay upright this time, but struggled with the kickstand, finally leaning it against the fence.

  Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she read the paper. “Seven stones from the archway.”

  I scowled. That wasn’t a clue, it was an answer. “At least he stopped with the riddles.”

  “They weren’t hard for me.”

  That hadn’t been my point and she knew it.

  “Which one?” Kat glanced at the crumbling building and I inhaled the damp bouquet of pavement, soil, and life. We scanned the half-dozen archways.

  I got off the scooter and limped to the corner where a section of fence gaped several feet. On the other side, a wide stone pathway led from the sidewalk beneath the arch and beyond. “This one.”

  She pushed past me and eased through the leaning iron sections that reminded me of a haunted house. I followed and counted six stones. Leaves rustled and a thick silence oppressed the air. Kat’s bare arm brushed mine and I didn’t pull away, needing to feel the pulse beating beneath her sticky skin.

  I scanned the overgrown space to the right as Kat did the same. After a few moments and no clue, I bent and examined the edges of the stone. “Dirt’s missing.”

  While I dug at the fresh dirt, Kat rustled around in her knapsack. Pretty soon I had a small pile and poked my finger deep into the clump at the corner. It fell inward, like a cavity existed beneath the stone.

  “Here.” Kat shoved my shoulder and held an outstretched hand.

  I laughed, but bit it off when her face fell. “It’s an emery board, Kat. I don’t think that’s going to help.” I braced my feet, while she huffed behind me and stabbed the nail file back into her bag. She probably thought she actually was helping, and I should have given her credit for that. It was more than I’d brought.