Page 85 of Love Expert

“Y-you’re not mad, are you?” Elson’s wife worries. “Does this put you in a tough spot?”

“No! It’s fine.” My voice squeaks and crackles, horrifyingly telegraphing my lie. Steeling myself, I trade Elson’s hand for hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s completely fine. If Isla needs advice or tips or anything, for free,” I add quickly as warmth floods my cheeks. “Please encourage her to text me. It wouldn’t be a bother at all.”

“We will,” Elson grins. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome,” I rasp.

ROUND THIRTY-TWO

BILLY

Me:

Hey. You didn’t reply to my texts yesterday. Just checking in that everything’s okay.

Jeremy was really hoping you’d stop by.

Good one, dickhead. Lead with manipulation.

Maybe we’ll see you today. Hopefully.

“Hey.” Ramone drops onto his chair inside the station, the frame squeaking under his weight, and the heavy thud of his boots hitting his desk echoes from one end of the building to the other. He smiles around a candy strip, flashing white teeth and lips coated in sugar powder. “You look surlier than usual. Maggie break up with you?”

I lock my phone and set it carefully on my desk, lest I smash the fucking thing… against his face. Slowly, I bring my eyes up and simply glare. Heated, silent, and so fucking potent, his smile drops away.

“Oh…” He drags the candy from his mouth and gulps. “Maggie broke up with you.”

“Maggiecan’thave broken up with me,” I snarl. “Because Maggie has never actually agreed to be with me. Technically.” I settle back in my chair and tilt my head until I’m looking at the water-stained ceiling. “She’s not replying to my texts. Not calling me back.”

“Maybe she’s really busy. You ever notice how she’salwaysworking? Always heading over to Barlespy.”

“Not too busy to tape a sign to her bedroom window last night.” I fold my arms and nibble on the inside of my lips. “She can find the time to communicate with my eight-year-old via pen and paper, but she can’t even send a thumbs up to one of my texts?”

“Well…” He glances left, along a row of desks littered with too much paperwork and not enough manpower to get through the backlog. Then he peeks right, toward the boardroom we sometimes use, and right beside the boardroom door, a water cooler that hasn’t been refilled in… years. He makes a sound in the back of his throat, a non-committalhmm, then he brings his eyes back to mine. “What did you do to piss her off?”

“What didIdo?” My temper spikes, so fucking easily. So near the edge. “I didn’t do shit!”

“The evidence may suggest otherwise.” He rises from his chair and strides toward the boardroom. “Come on.”

“Dude,” I groan, turning in my seat and watching his back. “What are you doing?”

“Solving a mystery. Duh.” He moves through the doorway and leaves me out here all alone.

I’m so fucking tired. So weary. So ready to make a mess of my partner’s face, I scrub my hands over my face and exhale a noisy huff. But then I stand and follow him, across the threshold and into the room where MAGGIE and BILLY are already written on the smart board. “I don’t have the energy for this bullshit today, Ram?—”

“This is literally how our brains work best, so close the door, sit the fuck down, and stop being a bitch.” He draws stick figures under each name, one with a down-turned smile, and the other, with a skirt. “You suck at communication, bro, so even when I ask what’s happening, you give me nothing of substance. You cryI love her so much, andwhy won’t she love me back? But then you go and say stupid shit. I saw the two of you wander into my bathroom on the weekend, and I saw the condom in my trash can after.”

“For fuck’s sa?—”

“Sure, the condom could’ve belonged to anyone, I agree. But the timing was interesting, and watching you and Maggie in the hot tub after kinda suggests maybe things were heating up for you guys. Which is great, by the way.” He turns from the board and meets my eyes. “So, even though you technically haven’t confirmed anything, I’m running with the theoryyou finally landed the girl you’ve been dreaming about since second grade.” He flashes a wide grin. “You’re welcome.”

Shut the fuck up.

“Now we have a timeline.” He starts at one end of the board and draws a single long line to the other side. Moving quickly, he adds details. “Barbecue at my place is here.” He adds a dash to the board. “Today, right now, is here.” Another dash. “And since the gossip vines travel faster than I can block my ears, I’m just gonna add,” another dash, “here. Yesterday. Because the group chat is abuzz about Jeremy’s rendition of Miss Maggie’s purple panties sleepover, except this time, Maggie slept in your bed with you. No couch surfing for you, son. You came to work yesterday, happy as a fuckin’ clam, which implies things went well. You’re at work today,” he draws a final dash on the board, “not so happy. That leads me to believe something went down last night.” Satisfied, he turns and folds his arms. “What did you do?”

“To her? Nothing! I texted yesterday after she left my place. Told her to drive safely, invited her over for dinner, told her Jeremy wanted to cook mini pizzas and watch a movie.”

“So…” He closes one eye, like it helps him think. “Did she reply to those?”