Page 30 of Shark’s Edge

“What’s up, brother? You look like paste. And it’s not a good look on you, if I’m being honest.”

“Still not one hundred percent, that’s all. The heat is getting to me a little bit.”

Pia dug into her mini cooler and handed me a juice box. I eyed her wearily but knew it would make me feel better.

Because my sister was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes when she was three years old, we both knew all the nutritional tricks to raise and lower blood sugar and the quickest way to accomplish the goal.

Vela’s team came in off the field for halftime, and Pia went down to the sideline to help pass out snacks and drinks. I took advantage of the break from the game to head over to the concessions stand to have a chat with Little Red Riding Hood. Seeing her outside of my office did even stranger things to my libido than seeing her at work. Couldn’t exactly explain why that was, but this woman was making me feel like a teenager trying to work up the courage to ask his crush out on a date.

Jangled nerves. Sweaty palms. Dry mouth.

Seriously?

I shifted from side to side in my running shoes, fidgeting with my shirt and checking my watch. Christ, if Grant saw me right now, I’d never hear the end of it.

Rio caught sight of me first. She made some snide comment, and Abbigail’s head shot up, abruptly stopping her conversation with another parent midsentence. The woman she was speaking to turned around to see what, or who, had captured Abbi’s attention so completely.

“Aren’t you—” The woman snapped her fingers twice in a steady beat, as if that would conjure my name.

I offered my hand to her. “Sebastian Shark. A pleasure to meet you.” I gave her a practiced I’ll-have-your-knickers-in-my-pocket-later grin while I shook her hand, and just like that, she turned into a bumbling schoolgirl.

The woman reached up to surreptitiously fix her hair that was carelessly tucked under a Disneyland ball cap.

“Are you an easy-going Jungle Cruise kind of girl or more of a Space Mountain speed demon?” I asked, nodding up to her cap, still grinning. The first lesson in lady killing—women loved talking about themselves. Actually, to be fair, that rule spanned both sexes.

“Probably depends on the day.” She paused, and a sly smile moved across her glossy pink lips. “Or the company.” She gave me a flirtatious bat of her eyelashes.

Abbigail coughed loudly, and the woman turned boiled-lobster red.

“You okay there, Little Red? Need the Heimlich Maneuver?”

“No,” she answered. “You just stay on that side of the counter, thank you very much.” She gestured dramatically up and over the service counter to the ground where I stood.

Once the other woman walked away and Abbi’s partner was busy with another customer, I stepped closer to the counter.

“We need to talk.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” She shifted her eyes back and forth.

“I’m serious. There’s been a situation with the food you brought to my office on Friday. I got very sick and had to go to the emergency room that night. It was most unpleasant.”

“So I’ve heard.” The tone was frosty and remote.

“Shit,” I muttered.

“So I’ve heard.” A little chuckle followed the comment.

I cradled my face in my palms. How embarrassing. “I’m glad you find it humorous. I can assure you it was anything but.” I glared at her, but she wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Neither was the visit from the police officers I received yesterday morning. I can’t believe you told them I poisoned you. Do you have any idea what something like this could do to my business?”

“I didn’t tell them you poisoned me, Abbigail.”

“So are you saying the authorities just randomly guessed you had a tummy ache Friday night? And then just came by my house to see if I fed you that day? What a series of lucky coincidences. I mean, I’ve heard the police around here are a bunch of bumbling fools, so imagine the amount of luck they had to have guessed all that.”

“Are you finished?”

“Oh, you can bet on it.”