Devil In The Waters, Book 3, Chapter 1b (complete)

At a table for four situated in the centre of the Martinique’s dining floor, Josh sat with Meyer and Sophie waiting for their fourth diner to arrive who swore she wouldn’t be late, but was. Above their head hung an upside down birdcage interwoven with fake ivy, but it was the re-purposed yellow traffic stoplight with a flashing green light that had Sophie’s attention, his little niece laughing and pointing at it occasionally but without saying her reasons for amusement, expecting her dad and uncle to just know exactly what it was so dazzling.

The Martinique was a family restaurant, kid friendly, every table filled with families and a handful of kids; the place was loud but clean and air conditioned, dim and nicely decorated, sun bright out in the strip mall’s parking lot early evening sun still bright enough to end up sparks off chrome and clean windshields. They were waiting for Kimmy but had ordered appetizers when she said she might be a little late (twenty minutes ago), the basket of mozzarella sticks reduced to crumbs and grease stains on the checkerboard wax paper. He was on his second Diet Coke, Meyer on a second iced tea, Sophie with a glass of water after her milk was done.

Only one thing on Josh’s mind right now, and he passed that thing to Meyer under the table so Sophie wouldn’t see, looking to get a second opinion. Meyer took it, frowning at him, not understanding.

Josh whispered. “Her card. Look at it.”

Still frowning, not understanding the need for spy craft, Meyer read the card. “What . . .?”

“Look at it again.”

His cousin’s frown deepened and he re-read Kimmy’s business card, still not seeing it. Meyer’d known Kimmy for years before they were married so it wasn’t obvious.

Josh hissed, “Jesus, Meyer, read it slow—”

Meyer got it now, head nodding, eyes widening. Then the brow went down again, this time lowered with concern. “Chang?” He gave Josh a scrunched what-the-fuck? face.

Sophie was bored and attentive, watching them saying, “What is it?”

Meyer said, “Daddy stuff, Soph,” then to Josh, “Why? Like why would she . . .”

“Her boss wants her to have a Chinese name so his Chinese clients will feel at ease, I guess . . .”

Meyer passed the card back, going under the table like he’d done. “Feels . . . I don’t know, kind of—” he leaned closer and whispered “—racist.”

“I don’t think it is,” Josh said, looking down in his lap where he held Kimmy Waters’s new business card. Kimmy Chang, Stone Brokerage LLC, underneath: Attorney At Law. But he wished he could convince Kimmy it was—just as a way to reel this thing back because it was feeling like he was losing control. Why had he agreed to it with all that was going on behind the scenes? Why would he risk his marriage? Up front he knew he would never stand in his wife’s way of anything—he wasn’t that kind of man—but on the back burner was something he feared: a dark curiosity that tickled him when he thought of Devlin and his wife. There was no truth to Devlin’s claims he’d asked for the man to fuck her (there was just no way), but he couldn’t deny that sinking feeling he liked low in his belly when he felt unsure of his wife and imagined a secret desire she might have for the man who made his youth unbearable.

A flash of white light raced back and forth across the restaurant and the faces of the diners across from him as the front door opened, sunlight reflected from its glass inset. Kimmy had arrived, his wife coming into the restaurant in a rush, eyes scanning the patrons quickly, pinpointing where he sat and heading their way. She was at the table before he had a chance to rise, and he watched as Meyer looked up and didn’t recognize her. It was a seconds-long moment his cousin stared quizzically at the woman he’d known about as long as Josh had. Then he shook his head and laughed, and his mouth fell open. He half rose from his chair saying, “Kimmy, I didn’t even recognize you, I was looking at you thinking who’s this and why’s she at our table? . . . Look at you, the suit and everything—and your hair . . .”

“Yeah, yeah,” Kimmy said, waving Meyer off, moving widdershins around the table behind Sophie who was wide-eyed, head oscillating around to follow her favorite auntie as Kimmy came to the chair next to Josh. She slung her purse over the seat back, sat then scooted forward. She leaned and he leaned to meet her. They kissed. Then Kimmy was laughing seeing Sophie staring incredulously. “What is it, Pumpkin—don’t you recognize me either?”

“Look at your hair,” Sophie whispered.

Kimmy leaned forward, tilting her head down, and Sophie patted the top of Kimmy’s head, her little hands moving over the rounded shape of Kimmy’s bun. Then she batted at her combed bangs. “Look at your hair,” Sophie whispered again.

Kimmy sat up. “Do you like it?”

“You’re so pretty.”

Kimmy made an affected expression (her niece’s words warming her), and tucked her chin down then held out her hands to Sophie saying, “Come sit in my lap for a minute. Come see me.”

As Sophie got out of her chair to climb up in Kimmy’s lap, Kimmy said to Meyer, “Did you guys order yet? Sorry, I’m late, it’s bumper-to-bumper all the way out of the city.”

“Get used to it,” Meyer said. “Josh says you stole his car.”

“We bought a new one. We’re up to two cars again, but Josh gave me his for a week before we pick up the new. Thanks for picking him up.”

“No prob. We didn’t order. We just had some mozzarella sticks.”

Kimmy made a face because she didn’t like cheese sticks, and Sophie got comfortable in Kimmy’s lap saying, “I like cheese sticks.”

Kimmy said, “Well I hope they didn’t eat them all on you.”

“I got some,” Sophie sang for Kimmy, putting on the cute act and still admiring her aunt’s hair.

Kimmy kissed Sophie’s forehead, then asked her, “Would you undo my hair for me?”

Sophie’s expression went to gleeful, and Kimmy leaned her ear toward Sophie who began trying to figure out how to get Kimmy’s bun to come apart. Her face was to him, and as Sophie worked the bun apart his wife made quiet but pained faces at him.

He said, “How was your first day?”

“Good,” she said, wincing, head jerking as Sophie tugged.

And like a dick, he went right to it. “How’s your buddy Devlin?”

She made an irritated sound but hid any chagrin from her expression. It should have been a sound expressed over Devlin but it sounded like his question was what bothered her. She said, “I hardly saw him. He was in for a few minutes.”

There were terrible words on his tongue but he kept them at bay. I’m sure you were disappointed . . . The words of the disgruntled, passive-aggressive, and resentful. If he didn’t keep himself in check he could put up a barrier between them before even realizing it.

He said nothing. Kimmy closed her eyes. Sophie saved the day. “Who’s the devil in?”

“Creepy, Soph,” Josh said.

Josh said, “You don’t want to know,” made devil horns with wiggling index fingers held up at his temples and loomed nearer his niece who hid behind the mane of Kimmy’s untied hair.

Sophie cupped a hand to Kimmy’s ear and whispered. kimmy nodded, then looked his way. She said, “Sophie thinks you guys were talking about me.”

Josh said, “When?”

Meyer laughed, said, “Oh yeah, we were definitely talking about you.”

Kimmy side-eyed Josh.

“Only good things,” Josh said.

Kimmy said to Sophie, “What do you think. Were they saying good things?”

“Yes. Something about racing.”

Kimmy showed Soph a perplexed face. “That’s all you’ve got for me?”

Sophie shrugged then smiled.

“Well, thanks for looking out for me, Sophie.”

Kimmy looked his way, but instead of any irritation Kimmy only showed him warmth and affection. With Soph braced in a hugging arm, she leaned toward him again and he leaned closer. She gave him a long sighing kiss against his cheek.

The touch of her lips healed whatever irritable angst scratched at his heart. Her lips slipped away and she met his eyes. Then she chuckled and wiped at his cheek where she must have left a mark with her lipstick. Sophie giggled. Kimmy looked at her point blank. Put a lipstick mark on Sophie’s forehead while Sophie squealed.