The Trapped Girl (Tracy Crosswhite #4)(62)

“I can’t risk losing my trust, Devin.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve hidden it.”

“How?”

“I opened bank accounts in a different name.”

“How did you do that?”

“I can’t say how. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

“That’s okay. Wow. So you think it’s safe?”

“It should be. I’m still in the process of doing a couple of things.”

“Where did you learn how to do it?”

I gave a small laugh. “Where else? A book.”

“So you just made up a name?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“So you, like, have an alias?”

“I guess so.”

“Do you have a driver’s license?” Devin asked, animated.

“I needed one to open the account.”

Devin leaned forward, wide-eyed. “Did you use a famous person’s name?”

“No. I used a pretty lame name, actually.”

Two young men in business suits, ties lowered and top shirt buttons undone, approached our table and Devin sat back. They were cute. One had sandy blond hair and a shy grin. The other sported one of those trendy two-day-growth beards and a lot of attitude—like Graham when I first met him. With summer nearing, a lot of the businesses hired college interns. These two didn’t look much older.

“My friend and I were hoping you could settle a bet,” Mr. Two-Day Growth said, which caused Devin to give me a sidelong glance and a roll of her eyes.

“What’s that?” she said, playing along.

“I’m betting you’re in town for the Nike CrossFit games.” He jabbed a thumb at the Brad Pitt look-alike. “He says you’re locals out for a drink.”

“What happens if you’re both right?” Devin said.

“We both buy you a drink,” he said, smiling.

The blond looked at me with a sheepish grin. “Are you the CrossFit competitor?”

“Me?” I said, hoping I wasn’t blushing. “God, no.”

“Well, you look like you could be.” He flashed a boyish grin that ran straight through me.

The waitress returned with our two Lemon Drops. Devin said, “Seems we already have drinks, and we haven’t seen each other in a while. We’re trying to catch up. But thanks.”

I was surprised Devin blew them off, which wasn’t like her. Unlike me, she relished attention, and she wasn’t married. I almost sensed Devin was peeved that I’d been the one mistaken for the CrossFit athlete. I was in great shape, the best shape of my life. I’d need to be.

“You ladies have a nice night,” Mr. Two-Day Growth said. They turned to leave, but not before the blond glanced back and gave me another grin.

Devin laughed but it sounded stilted. “Look at you, getting all the attention.”

“I think they were more interested in you,” I said, trying to be diplomatic.

“Bullshit,” Devin said. “He liked what he saw. And you do look great, Andrea.” She sort of threw the last compliment away.

“Well, working out five days a week and being under constant stress will do that.”

“So the Rainier trip is still on?”

“Yeah,” I said, and felt a pang of guilt.

She raised her glass. “To having younger men hit on us in a bar.”

I raised my glass and met hers, then pretended to take a drink but only tasted the sugar around the rim.

She set down her drink. “So, you and Graham are staying together?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Can I speak frankly?”

“Sure,” I said. I’d never known Devin not to speak frankly.

She turned and glanced at the two men who’d tried to hit on us. “That’s pretty much what’s out there. Guys too young, looking to get laid, or divorced guys too old, looking to get laid. I know you and Graham have had your problems, but if he’s willing to give your marriage a go, you might want to consider it. At the very least go on the trip and see what comes of it. If it doesn’t go well, then you can decide what to do.”

I didn’t get much of a chance to consider her advice. The waitress returned with our appetizers and another round of Lemon Drops. “We didn’t order a second round,” Devin said.

The waitress nodded at the table shared by our two admirers. “They sent them over.”

The blond and his friend raised their beer glasses and smiled.

Devin said, “What do you think? Should we invite them over?”

“Sure, why not?” I said, sensing she wanted to flirt with them.

They turned out to be interns at an investment firm. Both were in graduate school, one at Tulane and the other at Dartmouth. Devin called them smarty-pants. The blond had definitely chosen me, and I talked with him long enough to keep his friend interested, for Devin’s sake. At some point Devin noticed that I hadn’t drunk my first drink, and she finished it. She also drank my second drink. Four Lemon Drops.

Around 11:00 p.m., the guy hitting on Devin suggested they leave and she agreed. I told his friend I was going to be heading home, and he didn’t push it. He’d noticed the wedding ring. He said it was nice talking to me and went back to the table with his other friends.