have still had glitter everywhere, even if Aunt Belle had sent a stripper.
Tuesday 4:25 p.m.
RH: Are you sure no powerpoint
SL: Positive. 100%. William might like a ppt but he’s not the one making the decision.
RH: William’s gonna be there?
SL: Yeah, most likely. Is that a problem?
RH: No.
What kind of presentation should I do?
SL: How do you feel about interpretive dance?
RH: I can’t tell if you’re kidding or not.
SL: Kinda kidding.
Aunt Belle responds best to feelings and people, not computers and numbers.
RH: She built this business during the dot-com boom. She doesn’t like technology?
SL: Not that kind. Talk to her. Tell her why you want her business and what you’ll do with it.
RH: No numbers?
SL: Some numbers. Mostly you.
Tuesday 8:20 p.m.
SL: You still making the powerpoint?
RH: I’ll keep it in my back pocket.
SL: I wouldn’t lie to you.
RH: I didn’t say you would. I like to be prepared for anything.
Wednesday 12:40 p.m.
RH: Thanks for the pizzas. My office is delighted.
SL: How’d you know I sent them?
RH: No one else would.
Wednesday 9 p.m.
SL: Want to get a drink?
RH: Still working.
SL: I miss your face.
RH: Well, you’ll see me in two days.
SL: You’re not even going to send me a photo of yourself?
RH: You asking me for nudes? I’m in the office.
SL: Photos of your face. Here’s mine.
RH: Boo, you gotta work your angles better. Selfies from above, not below.
SL: You’ll have to teach me how to selfie too I guess
About those nudes . . .
RH: I thought you said you wanted my face.
SL: I’ll take anything.
Wednesday 9:22 p.m.
SL: why did you send me a pic of a brown shoe
RH: They’re nudes.
SL: Unbelievable.
RH:
Thursday 12:25 p.m.
RH: Mexican today, I see.
SL: I thought your employees might like a taco truck.
RH: Tomorrow I expect you to show up and cook for everyone, FYI.
SL: I’m not that fancy a cook, but I can make a mean chili. Unfortunately, I have to work tomorrow.
RH: This is kind of extravagant. Do you have money to throw around like this?
SL: Uh, yeah. Don’t worry. I have savings.
You and your staff need to eat.
Consider it a courtesy from a colleague.
What do you want tomorrow? What’s your favorite food?
Thursday 3:27 p.m.
RH: Thai.
SL: Got it.
Thursday 11 p.m.
RH: I’m so tired.
SL: You want me to come over?
RH: No. You’ll make me more tired.
SL: We could cuddle. Watch tv.
RH: Netflix and chill huh
SL: I will never live that down!!! I continue to mean it literally.
RH: I’m good, thanks.
SL: I learned how to take a selfie. Look!
RH: Oh. Uh. Normally I am a hater of shirtless mirror selfies, since you do have a perfectly good front-facing camera, but this one is nice. Ctrl save.
SL: How about this one?
RH: You lower those sweatpants any more, we’re going to be in dick pic territory.
SL: I’d never.
RH: You could. I would not mind. Yours is pretty.
SL: Pretty??? No.
Really?
RH: Really. I’d delete it after, promise.
SL:
RH: That, my friend. Is a beautiful dick pic. Nicely lit, just a hint of flesh at the base of the shaft, outlined in your sweats. Your hand is positioned artfully, holding the dick. 14/10 for solicited dick pics. Actually, you have a beautiful hand. I could do with some hand pics too.
SL:
RH: It pains me to delete this photo.
SL: Please delete it. I did.
RH: Haha, okay. Now make sure you delete it from the cloud.
SL: The cloud? Oh fuck.
RH: I’ll help you with that when I see you tomorrow.
SL: The cloud or the . . . subject of the pic?
RH: Both if you’re lucky.
Friday 11:30 a.m.
RH: Thai food AND massages?!
SL: You have a road trip ahead of you. I imagine you’re exhausted. You need to be in top shape.
RH: Thank you.
See you soon.
SL:
Chapter Nineteen
SAMSON FINISHED pumping his gas and waved to the owner of the station, visible through the little window of the building. He knew the guy well, as well as he knew the Mexican American family who owned the tiny unassuming deli annexed to the left of the building. They made the best fish tacos and ceviche he’d had in his life.
He got into his car and buckled his seat belt. It was freeing, being back in his hometown after a while away. He didn’t have to keep a constant smile on his face now or be on guard against anyone calling him the Curse. He wasn’t a dynasty in Cayucos.
As comfortable as it was, he’d had trouble sleeping last night, after he drove up to the little town. The sound of the waves should have been soothing, but it was almost too