“Did you get an off-campus job? Not to be nosy. It’s just, I haven’t seen you around the library.”
“I work at Dayton’s practice, over in East Haven.”
“Dayton?”
It wasn’t until she detected the questioning note in his voice that she registered the mistake. She quickly amended, “Dr. Merino.”
“Oh.”
That one syllable was so soft, so telling. She interpreted it as his censored version of ‘that explains a lot.’
“Hey, there’s a party in the woods tomorrow off 99, a few miles past Roth’s. Bonfire. Beer. You should come. No offense, but you really look like you could use a night out.”
Refusal rose in her throat like bile but she swallowed it down. Will was right. She was overdue for an evening of conformity.
“I’ll be there.”
* * *
Her last class let out at 11:15 and she headed straight for the parking lot, as per her usual routine. The noon shift at the practice didn’t leave much time for dallying but Kenna preferred her days that way. Busy, structured.
Graduate school and her affair with Dayton combined forces and effectively extinguished her social life. She realized, with a sad sort of clarity, that she hadn’t exactly missed the trivia outings or occasional parties. So, why had she agreed to the bonfire? To appease Will Morris? Certainly not.
Either way, the damage was done. She had already accepted the invitation. If she backed out, she ran the risk of starting a rumor thatDr. Merinowas keeping her on a tight leash.
Something sank in her stomach as she approached the station wagon. What if Will had invited her for entertainment value? Her chest flared with rage only long enough to resolve that a plus-one was in order, welcome or otherwise.
The tip of the key had barely grazed the lock when a high-pitched whistle caught her attention.
Kenna spotted Detective Reynolds standing a few cars down and the sinking sensation intensified, as if everything inside of her fell away. Lost forever.
“Miss O’Callaghan.” He crooked a skinny finger, beckoning her over to his SUV.
Walking toward him, her heart thrummed with the delayed enthusiasm of a well-worn instrument and when they stood within several feet of each other, she offered no greeting.
Reynolds surveyed the vicinity before yanking open the passenger door. “Get in.”
“Excuse me?”
“Get in the car. We’re going on a field trip.”
She obeyed, more worried about being spotted by students than whatever the detective had in store.
* * *
Their destination, as it turned out, was a diner rather than the precinct. Kenna relaxed a bit once they were surrounded by other people and the smell of comfort food.
They were escorted to their table and, once she caught sight of the formica, she remembered drinking coffee on that rainy afternoon with Brandi as they awaited the arrival of her sister, Erin. The memory seemed as if it happened yesterday yet was far, far removed. Now, she found herself in the company of a detective. A scarf looped around her neck, hiding bruises from view à la Lacey Greene the day she’d burst into Dayton’s office.
It was a marvel, really, how much a year could change things.
Reynolds mirrored the mannerisms of any other patron. He drank his black coffee while scanning the menu, replacing the mug and muttering, “Tastes like shit.”
A deep-set wrinkle framed either side of his mouth and she suspected the premature aging was a result of duress, not felicity. There was something about the sharpness of his facial features, all lines and angles, that Kenna found attractive. The gold ring on his finger made her feel impish for thinking so.
The waitress came around to take their order and Kenna declined Reynolds’ offer for a bite to eat. She was content to sip her water, knowing that any ounce of food she tried to keep down would’ve encouraged her increasing need to vomit.
“Why didn’t you bring me to the station?”