“No, they don't.”
“I guess you don't know everything.” I walked closer, but not too close, to the guard on the right. “Why is the door like this?”
A gloved hand raised and pointed to a ding on his shoulder.
I swung back to Fate. “See? They're still pissed off about the hail storm.”
His face looked disbelieving. “You're mad?” he asked them.
They nodded and then pointed to me.
Fate motioned for me to follow him, as he walked about twenty feet away.
“Why is everything to do with you so strange?”
He looked at me as if I had some sort of explanation for him.
“What? That they’re mad? I did dent their suits. It's not that surprising that they’re upset.” If someone stained the only dress I had, I’d be pretty pissed.
“That they're communicating.”
“Have you ever tried talking to them before?”
He shook his head.
“Well, maybe it's not that odd. You can lack certain social graces, on occasion.”
“No, you don't get it. Everything to do with you is odd.”
“How so?”
“You want a list?”
“No. I don’t need a list from you about how weird I am.”
“You're a transfer. We haven't had a transfer in eons because they don't work out. You transferred over within a week of losing our other Karma. Spots usually stay open for a year or more. You're still so connected to your past life you never should have even been an option and yet—”
“And besides having no social graces, you stink at truces!” I walked away from him and back toward the doors, screaming over my shoulder as I did. “I'm doing what I'm supposed to do...most of the time.”
He cut in front of me, dropped to the ground and rolled through the opening. “Come on,” he called out from the other side.
I paused right before I dropped to the ground myself. “I hope you both have a really nice day,” I said to the guards.
They turned their heads away and stiffened. It didn’t matter; I’d crack them.
I rolled right onto a sandy beach. Fate reached down and grabbed my hand, yanking me to my feet and letting go quickly.
“Hey, how’d I end up in this?” I realized I was in a gold bikini that I filled out quite nicely. A cute black wrap hugged my hips.
“Did you pick this out?”
“The guards did,” he said but wasn’t actually looking at me.
“Over here,” he said, weaving his way through the people sunning themselves.
He was in bathing trunks but had a shirt on over it. Considering I was in a tiny bikini, the shirt struck me odd. He looked like he was in superb shape but maybe he had something under there he was uncomfortable with.
“I see him.” He pointed to the distance. “There, the guy in the blue trunks and the surfboard.”
“Are you going to try and get close?” Maxwell was floating around on his surfboard with a couple other guys.
“Not me, you.”
“Me? Shouldn’t the more experienced person do this one?” He was still staring out at the ocean. “Hello? Can you look at me for a second?”
He looked back at me and I immediately wished he hadn’t. It was that look. I knew what could come from that look. Completely thrown off kilter, my tongue darted out to wet my lower lip while I crossed my arms over my chest. I couldn’t decide if I should close the gap between us or run screaming down the beach in the opposite direction.
I realized I’d liked it better when he was telling me he wasn’t interested. Disinterest was insulting but safe. That look scared me.
Sometimes I was lulled into thinking he was something he wasn’t by his relaxed posture. Then he looked at me like this and my heart wanted to relocate out of my chest as I waited to see if he’d act on it.
He was the type of man that could consume me. After a man like him, I didn’t know if there would be a me left. The scariest part of all was, when he looked at me like that, I wasn’t sure if I cared.
“You know, it’s probably better to keep track of where he is.” I pointed toward Maxwell. “Keep looking at him.”
There was a slight hesitation, a decision being made. I held my breath while I waited to see what he would do. He turned back toward Maxwell and the tension broke.
“What should I do?” I asked.
“Wade in and try and get a little closer.” He laid out a couple of beach towels he had tucked under his arm, provided by the guards. He sat on one of the towels.
I kicked off my sandals and unknotted the cover. “Why am I the one going?”
“Because I can’t pick up anything from him. It would be good if we could get a clue why Suit wants him.”
“You can tell from over here?”
“Yes.”
“Then shouldn’t I?”
“No. You haven’t been doing it long enough and you’ve got too much human left on you to be that sensitive.”
I nodded. It made sense.
I watched Maxwell as I waded into the water, getting as close as I could but not close enough to arouse suspicion. I got about ten feet from him but I wasn’t picking up anything. I lingered in my spot but it was futile. I waited until he started paddling out to catch a wave. Whatever Fate thought I was supposed to pick up on wasn't happening.
I waded back out toward the beach where Fate was reclined on the towel, shirt still on. It’s not like he was pale and maybe had a fear of burning. What was with the shirt?
“Anything?” he asked, eyes still fixed on Maxwell.
“No.”
He stood and grabbed the towels, not elaborating any further.
“Well?”
“Either his karma doesn't swing strong enough in either direction or it's you.” He started walking back to where we had initially entered the beach and I followed.
“And?”
“I'm guessing it's you.”
Fate stepped through the doors first.
“I’ll be right there,” I yelled when I lost my sandal in the sand. I grabbed my shoe and just as I was stepping through the door, I heard him.
“See you soon, Camilla,” I spun around, just as the door was shutting, to see Suit standing there.
I turned to find Fate, but he was getting in his car. He paused half in, half out. “What?” he asked.
I looked over my shoulder, the doors gone. “Nothing.”
Chapter Twenty
I pulled my legs up under me on the bench as I watched Charlie walk out of his office. He looked tired as he got into his car.
Did he look thinner, too? Yes. He did. He needed to eat. He was always working crazy hours. I used to bring him dinner, a lot of the time. Who'd make sure he ate now?
I wondered if he'd been sleeping. I knew it was hard for me. Between Fate and this job, now I had Suit tracking me and I was too afraid to even tell anyone. Like Fate had said, there was no jury here. Harold hated me and Fate didn’t trust me. I’d just have to take my chances, keep my own counsel and hopefully get out of here before the situation escalated.
Charlie's car was pulling out of the driveway when I heard footsteps approaching.
“You've got to stop.”
Fate was standing behind me but I didn't turn. I just wanted—no, needed— some time alone, away from them and everything to do with the office.
“I'm not looking for company, right now.”
Instead of leaving, he sat down next to me.
“This is the problem. And your problem is becoming my problem.”
“He doesn't even notice me.”
“That's not what I'm talking about. This is why you aren't picking up as much as you should. I bet this is why you couldn’t pick up on Maxwell. If Suit wants him, there’s something off and, for good or for bad, I bet it’s strong enough to show up in his karma. You can’t pick up on it because you can't let go.”
“So what?”
“You said you were leaving at the end of the trial period, correct?”
“I told you I was.”
“Then I only have a small window to figure out who this guy is. You’re my best lead and you’re screwing this up.”
I edged over, further away from where he was sitting next to me. “How does coming here screw up anything?”