He frowned. “Do you really need a job that badly?”
I grinned awkwardly. “Who doesn’t need a job? Anyway, thanks for the lovely time and the fun and I hope you enjoy your kilt.”
He gave me a funny look and it wasn’t over what I had said. “Can I call you? Or do I have to guess your email again? I can’t believe you still use the same account since high school.”
“Well it’s all consolidated into one now.” But I gave Camden my phone number and told him to give me a ring. I wasn’t sure if that was a mistake or not, but perhaps keeping tabs on his whereabouts would help me out in the long run.
My eyes flew to the house and spied the curtains being thrown back. Uncle Jim was up.
I gave Camden a sheepish look. “I better go before he hangs my ass.”
I snatched up my purse, suddenly very aware I was doing the walk of shame, and went quickly up to the house. Seeing that he was still waiting in the jeep, I gave him a short wave, then unlocked the door and stepped in.
I leaned against it and didn’t breathe a sigh of relief until I heard Camden’s jeep roar away.
Then I yelped.
Uncle Jim suddenly appeared in front of me.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” I gasped, hand to my pounding heart.
He folded his arms across his denim shirt and lowered his head in paternal impatience. “Where on earth were you last night?”
“I told you, I was out. Applying for jobs,” I said, straightening out my tank top and avoiding his eyes. It’s not that I couldn’t lie to his face—I could lie to anyone’s face—but I didn’t want to see the disapproval.
“Without your car?”
“Er, yes,” I said, moving past him. I put my purse on the counter and opened the fridge. There was still only mustard.
“Ellie, I don’t care if you’re with that McQueen boy or not,” he explained with a sigh. “I really don’t. I know you know how to take care of yourself. You’re one of the toughest women I know.”
I rolled my eyes and was glad only the jar of mustard could see it. I didn’t feel so tough anymore now that the “McQueen boy” had admittedly gotten under my skin.
He went on. “I was just worried. I thought…maybe something had happened to you.”
I shut the fridge and leaned back against it to face him, blowing a strand of hair out of my face.
“I’m fine. See? And you just said I was the toughest woman you know.”
“I said you were one of them. And…I’m not worried about you and the Sheriff’s son. I’m worried about you. People from your past. About the kind of trouble you get in.”
I cocked my head. “People from my past? Like who?”
He waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Oh, no one. I don’t know who the people from your past are. I just know you have a past and that people’s pasts like to catch up with them.”
I had to admit, he was making me a bit nervous. It’s not that I wasn’t often thinking the exact same thing. When you lived your life scamming people, stealing from them and making enemies, you tended to have a giant case of paranoia and anxiety in your personal baggage. It’s part of the reason I got hooked on Ativan, but then my brain got too fuzzy and I lost a lot of my wits. I needed them.
But I couldn’t be afraid of everything all the time. I had always taken the right precautions. I did certain types of cons under certain types of names and certain types of personas. I had a revolving collection of realistic wigs, colored contacts, and self-tanning lotion. I knew tricks with makeup to make my nose look wider or slimmer; I could change my whole look just by manipulating my brows. No one knew Ellie Watt. Except for the people in this town, people like Camden, no one knew me. Even Javier didn’t know the real me; he knew me as a bronzed, blonde bombshell called Eden White. And yes, I chose to look, and sound, like a porn star on purpose.
“I’m fine, really,” I told him, wishing I sounded more confident. “Ellie Watt is a safe bet with a clean record.”
He furrowed his brow before walking over to the coffee pot. “Yeah, well I sure hope she keeps it that way. For both of our sakes.”
***
Later that day, I was walking around Joshua Tree National Park and planning the exact thing Uncle Jim was afraid of: trouble. To be fair, I’d only get in trouble, only tarnish my name if I got caught. And I wasn’t planning on getting caught. I wasn’t as impulsive as I used to be. I took chances but only when the odds were good. The odds here were in my favor. Camden liked me. He trusted me. He’d never believe I was the one ripping him off.