I’m not saying a thing about Preston other than the fact that he’s in the same industry as me.
“A colleague,” I answer smoothly. Sy’s eyes squint just the tiniest bit and he gives a nondescript noise of acknowledgment before his expression returns to that unflappable smoothness that is signature Sylas Broussard.
“Ready?”
“What’s going through that head of yours?” I ask as I continue working on the event from my phone while sitting next to Sy in his truck. I compose several more emails to a variety of other people I think would be interested in donating to Sylas’s nonprofit. I reach out to several political strategists currently on campaigns, full and part time, and dangle the opportunity to make a showy PR moment by coaxing their candidate into sponsoring BCF. I’ve sweetened the deal by guaranteeing photo ops, media citations and publicly listing them as a premier benefactor of Buzzsaw should they want any of those perks. Sy glances over at me.
“Not a lot. As a rule, I keep things pretty cleared out upstairs,” he jokes tapping his finger against his temple.
“Liar,” I huff.
“I’m just enjoying having you with me, happy to have help with BCF. That’s all,” he says softly, reaching across the console to rest his hand on my thigh.
“What’s that dreamy little look?” I question him smiling fully. He’s being weird.
“I have hope…” he states but doesn’t elaborate on that. Meantime my heart tumbles over itself in my chest.
“For BCF?” I ask looking out the window.
“Yeah, for BCF.” Sy doesn’t answer right away but when he does it lacks sincerity.
Building on what my gut tells me is a lie I add, “I’ll do anything I can to help. I love what you do and I want to see you and Dale keep it going. I like Dale,” I smile genuinely.
“He wasn’t great at first, but he’s putting in the work to get there.”
“So why did you hire Dale if you knew he was an alcoholic?”
Sylas cocks his head in thought. “He made a mistake.” Sy’s bulky shoulders lift then fall. “People make mistakes and there’s no avoiding it. It’s a human condition, and that’s okay. Doesn’t matter that a mistake was made, doesn’t even matter what the mistake was. It only matters what a person does after they did it. That tells me all I need to know.”
“And what did Dale do after he made that mistake?”
“He showed up at the marina the very next day after the accident. He was green as hell with a hangover but he checked out my truck and made arrangements to repair it. While he was there, he took a look at some fiberglass damage on Year Ten and also made arrangements to patch it. That’s how I discovered he’s the best damn mechanic and auto body guy in the state. He’s a good man he just has a past.”
“Don’t we all,” I sigh, settling deeper into my seat with Sy’s observant regard periodically fixed on me.
The rest of the drive back to Palmetto Grove is made in companionable silence with me stuck to my phone and Sy alternating between glances at me and studying the road like it holds the secret to life—and I am grateful for the reprieve the silence gives us.
There is a lot to digest, a lot to think about and sleeping with Sylas has only muddied the waters. I may love swan diving into those muddy waters right now but it doesn’t mean that it’s the smartest course of action. I can’t even begin to entertain what my goodbye will look like. Still, I can’t bring myself to regret my time with him, triggers be damned. The delicate dance of remaining evasive is, however, growing very old already and I have only been home a few days. Skirting around Sylas and constantly choosing my words—what I reveal to him and what I keep guarded is exhausting. Especially so when Sylas is still very good at peeling back my carefully erected walls of defense.
We arrive at my parent’s house and both of them are on the front porch, books in hand, and iced tea on the small tables flanking the porch swing daddy built when I was still a gap-toothed kid.
“This isn’t going to be weird at all is it?” I say under my breath. Sy just chuckles as he gets out of the truck and comes around to the passenger side to help me out.
I climb the steps with Sy at my back and smile sweetly at