Chapter 3 #2
“Cora.” His voice is quiet and completely certain.
“It’s fine. I backed you up because you looked like you needed it, and I’d do it again.
The question is just what we do now.” He pauses.
“The town is already telling the story. So we can either correct it immediately and explain the whole thing and have everyone asking about Muir—”
I make a sound.
“Right,” he says. “Or we hold the line for the summer. Keep things vague. He’s back, he’s here for a season, and by the time autumn comes he’ll be gone again and the whole thing quietly dissolves.
” He looks at me sidelong. “It doesn’t have to be complicated.
We already work together half the day anyway, and we live together.
Not much would change except that people will stop trying to set you up with the merman from the township. ”
“Dermot is very nice,” I say weakly.
“Dermot asked you out four times and you told him you were too busy with inventory.”
“My inventory was—”
“Cora.”
I exhale. I pull at my pandesal and wet the end of it in my coffee before popping the piece in my mouth.
While I chew, I mull over the reasons this plan is slightly unhinged and about how the only alternative is walking into town today and telling people never mind, the whole thing was a five-second panic response to news about my ex, who is now in Harmony Glen.
I will spend the rest of the summer being on the receiving end of concerned community attention that I have zero appetite for.
“Fine,” I say.
Rex nods, unhurried.
“But we need rules,” I add, because if I am going to do something unhinged I am going to do it with structure. “Nothing too complicated. No public displays that feel weird. No buying me things or pretending to remember anniversaries or whatever, that’s insane, we just need to be plausible.”
“We spend most of our time together already,” Rex repeats as if I didn’t hear the first time.
“Right. So it’s basically the same. Just with—”
“Occasional hand-holding when the Bennett sisters are nearby.”
“Exactly. We can do that.”
“And the whole ‘my partner’ framing instead of ‘my friend.’”
“Fine.”
“At the bonfire sets, when tourists ask who you’re with.”
I pause. “Okay.”
“And maybe,” he says, very casually, “when Muir is around.”
The word lands like a pebble in a still pond. I feel the ripple go out from it.
“Yeah,” I say, after a moment. “Especially then.”
Rex doesn’t say anything smug about this. He doesn’t say anything at all. One of the reasons he is my best friend.
He just takes a sip of his coffee, and another bite of his bread, and we sit together in the early morning on the porch with the lake going gradually from silver to blue.
“Oh,” Rex says, like he’s just remembered something. “Speaking of work. We got an inquiry about the job last night. For the dive position. I think he filled out the online application yesterday.”
I look at him. “An applicant already?”
“Yeah. Guy’s looking for seasonal work. Certified diver, experienced with freshwater systems.” Rex’s face crinkles as he pulls at his memory. “Conservation work in Scotland. Lakes, rivers, that kind of thing. Sounds like he knows what he’s doing.”
I freeze at Scotland. “He’s Scottish?” I ask. My voice sounds strange.
“Yeah. Has all the right certifications, spent time talking about the water. Outdoorsy type. Comfortable in the water, good with people. Went on about respecting local ecosystems and wanting to learn from established operations.” He glances up. “Bit formal. Very earnest.”
The tightness in my chest is spreading. “Earnest.”
“Like he’s trying to make a good impression. Mentioned he’d heard good things about San Pedro Eco-Tours, wanted to be part of something that prioritized education and conservation.” Rex shrugs. “Seemed sincere.”
Earnest. Formal. Trying to make a good impression.
“What else?” I ask, and my voice is very carefully neutral.
Rex drums out a syncopated beat on his chest. “Not much. Standard stuff. Availability for the full summer season, willing to start immediately, flexible schedule. References from conservation groups in Scotland.” He pauses.
“Oh, and he mentioned he has experience with tours. Worked as a guide before.”
The world is tilting slightly. I set my coffee down before I drop it.
“Rex,” I say. “What’s his name?”
He blinks at me, scrunching his face as he searches his memory banks. “I didn’t get it.” He takes his phone out and frowns at it as he scrolls. “Well damn.”
“It’s Muir,” I say. “Isn’t it.”
Rex stops scrolling. Looks at me. “How did you—”
“Scottish. Conservation work. Earnest and formal and trying very hard to sound professional.” I’m standing now, though I don’t remember deciding to stand. “It’s him. It’s Muir.”
“Dammit, I’m sorry. I fucked up.”
“Can I see your phone?”
He hands it over without argument. I navigate to the form and spread my fingers to expand it.
New Submission: Employment Inquiry - Dive Guide Position
I open it.
Muir Callaghan
I stop reading. I don’t need to see more. The name is enough. The name is everything.
“He applied for a job,” I say out loud, testing the words. “He came back to Harmony Glen and applied to work for us.”
“Looks like it,” Rex says carefully.
“He wants to work here. On the lake. With—” I can’t finish the sentence.
Rex is watching me, trying to figure out how bad this is and what kind of support I need. “I can tell him the position’s filled. Easy. One email.”
The lie is right there, easy and available. I could take it with both hands and lock the whole situation neatly away and go back to the summer I had planned. The summer that was going so well three days ago. The summer that was exactly what I wanted.
“No,” I hear myself say.
Rex waits.
“He needs the work,” I say. Probably true and definitely a more dignified reason than the one operating somewhere below my breastbone, the one that sounds uncomfortably like I want to know who he is now.
“And we already have the application. It would be rude.” I turn back around.
“Besides. If he’s working for us, at least I know where he is.
Better than running into him unexpectedly all summer. ”
Rex’s expression does something extremely neutral. His version of agreement. “Right,” he says.
“We’ll be professional.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll be completely unbothered.”
“Completely.”
“Rex, I swear to every water spirit in this lake, if your face does that thing—”
“What thing? I’m not doing a thing.” He picks up his paper bag with tremendous dignity.
“I’ll see you at the dock. Eight o’clock.
We’ve got two tours and a gear check.” He pauses at the top of the porch steps.
“Oh, and the bonfire committee called. They want to know if we’d do a couples’ set this Friday. ”
He is at his truck before I can find anything appropriate to throw.