5. Callum #2
Peyton’s generous praise catches the attention of another guy in line, who inches toward her and asks what smoothie she ordered. I notice the way Peyton’s nose scrunches, how she takes a step back from him, but she masks any discomfort well.
Poor guy probably needs a shower. Or maybe she just doesn’t like people in her space. Who does?
“It’s a Nutty Nana. You have to try it. Make sure to add in an extra scoop of whey protein powder!”
A smile lifts the man’s face as he pulls out his card and orders that exact smoothie from Kevin.
Peyton has these people wrapped around her lavender-tipped finger. At this point, I’m pretty sure she could order a wet shoe and they’d fall in line.
While almost everything about her perplexes me, it’s also mesmerizing to watch her work—which I’ve realized is what this is: work.
There’s a sieve about her personality, one that filters out little bits of her true self—the sarcastic, mischievous one that I got—before she interacts with people she’s trying to convince.
Yet, she radiates easy familiarity, like she’s their long-lost best friend.
Peyton surveys the rest of the line, seemingly satisfied with her efforts so far, and finally turns my way. When her eyes land on mine, her full lips curl into her classic smirk. She gives me a small wave, wiggling her fingers playfully.
Hi, Inspector, she mouths, amusement steeped in her expression.
I’m starting to realize that she’d be able to persuade anyone to do anything with the flecks of gold in her sage-green eyes alone.
She may find humor in my job, but for me, it’s serious. It’s what keeps me steady. PTSD can be unpredictable, so catalogs, control, and clarity provide comfort. Peyton, on the other hand, cannot be categorized. She appears to fit into her own, unknown bracket of pandemonium.
“Who’s Gym Barbie?”
I flinch at the sound of Clementine’s voice.
“Yeah. Who is she?”
Fuck. Not Clover noticing, too. I turn around and face The Terrors Squared, who’re both sipping on Nutty Nanas. When did that happen?
“No one I know, really,” I say, sounding the opposite of casual. “She was here when I did my inspection the other day. Not a big deal.”
Clover places her hand on my shoulder. “Not a big deal? I haven’t seen you look at anyone with that much interest since the girl in that cartoon you used to watch during the summers. When you were in college.”
“Ooo, what cartoon?”
My gut twists at the sound of that voice. I can hear the levity in Peyton’s tone as I slowly swivel around to face her. She stands behind me with a giant smile on her face.
Peyton holds her hand up. “Wait. Don’t tell me. Was it Wanda from The Fairly Oddparents?”
Clementine and Clover start giggling and step around me to bring Peyton into the conversation.
Quickly scanning the walls for a fire alarm to pull, I brace myself for the twins’ response. How am I going to get out of this one?
Peyton shrugs, a glint of mischief in her eye. “I’m just saying. She’s intelligent. Responsible. Grants wishes. Imagine how many raw chickens you’d be able to cook to exactly 165 degrees Fahrenheit, 74 Celsius, with access to that kind of power.”
I roll my eyes. “First of all, Wanda’s already married to Cosmo, and—”
“For the love of God, Cal, stop talking right now.” Clover doesn’t even look up from her phone. She mumbles something I can’t quite catch, but it sounds suspiciously similar to “save you from yourself.”
“It was Sailor Moon,” Clementine chimes happily, taking a dramatic slurp from her smoothie.
“Was it?” Peyton’s face oozes delight. “It’s lovely to meet both of you. I’m Peyton.”
Clementine holds out her hand, and Peyton pauses, seemingly flustered by the gesture. She wipes her hand on the side of her leggings, maybe drying any condensation off from her smoothie, before slowly bringing her hand to Clementine’s and loosely shaking it.
“I’m Clementine. Cal’s little sister.” Clementine nods to her left. “This is Clover.”
Peyton waves at Clover, whose hands are full, and takes a sip of her smoothie. “You have a real ‘C’ theme going on, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. One thing about our family is that we commit to a bit. Ma and Dad wanted a strong brand,” Clementine replies.
Peyton belly laughs, completely unrestrained, making it nearly impossible for me to contain my own smile.
She tilts her head. “Wow. A smile? Instead of the confused emoji face when you see me?” She rests her hand on her heart like she’s about to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. “I’ll never forget this moment.”
“Hm? He’s smiling? Hold on, Mom’s gonna eat this up.” Clover puts her phone directly in front of my face and snaps a picture. “Cal, you need to clarify your pores.”
Peyton takes another sip of her smoothie. “Sounds like you have a pretty fun family.”
“Yeah, we’re alright,” Clementine quips. “So, how do you know our big brother?”
“Oh, he always seems to show up at my places of work.”
Clover shoots me a look. “Cal, what the fuck? That’s creepy.”
I rub the back of my neck. “Actually, she shows up at my places of work. I don’t even know what she does for work.”
Peyton gives a sly grin. “I’m an enigma.”
I raise an eyebrow. “An enigma, sure, but are you an employee? Here, or… anywhere?”
“Oh, I’m definitely an employee somewhere. Here, too. Kind of.”
I release a long, tired exhale. “Are you new to the area? I don’t remember seeing you around much before the last few weeks.”
Clover peers over her phone. “You literally don’t see anyone. You never leave your house.”
I glare at my sister before hedging a glance back at Peyton, who’s still smiling.
“I’ve been living in Waterton for about two years now, but it’s not my first time in the area. My grandparents had a summer home not far from here, and I used to visit as a kid before they passed away.”
I frown. “I’m sorry about your grandparents.”
“Thanks. They were both in their nineties, and they lived full, happy lives. My favorite childhood memories are in Ohio. Swimming in Lake Erie, taking the ferry to South Bass Island…” She trails off, a wistful look on her face. “So, I decided to move here after doing a stint in New York.”
Peyton left New York for Waterton? It’s not unheard of to move here from a bigger city, but I’d imagine the differences are jarring. We only have one business that’s open 24 hours. It’s a gas station, and every pump says “See an Attendant.”
I wonder what she left behind in the Big Apple. Is she on her own? I shake my head, trying to stop myself from asking about a woman I barely know. Why do I care so much about someone who relishes my confusion?
Clover’s eyes widen. “Wow. New York City? I’d love to live there one day.”
Clementine scoffs. “You’d love to live anywhere that’s not here.”
“What did you do there?” Clover asks.
I know I should stop my sister’s incessant line of questioning, but… I kind of want to know, too.
“I was in the fashion industry,” Peyton tells her, finishing off the dregs of her smoothie.
Clover lights up and puts her phone in her pocket. She actually puts her phone away for Peyton. “Oh my God, stop it right now. Who did you work for? Anyone I know?”
“I worked for Haus of Lamont.”
Clover’s eyes spark with interest. “Holy shit. That’s one of my dream labels. I’m saving up so I can buy one of his signature leather jackets one day. What was it like working in couture?”
Peyton plays distractedly with the straw of her smoothie. “Oh. Um, it was okay. I’m much happier here.”
Clover’s jaw drops. “In Waterton?”
“Yeah, it’s beautiful and everyone’s really nice. I enjoy the small-town vibes. Bigger cities aren’t always what they’re cracked up to be.” Peyton shrugs. “But enough about me. Tell me more about you guys.”
It’s clear she’s interested in changing the subject, but Clementine can’t seem to let it go.
“Our oldest sister works in fashion, too. You’d fit right in at our family dinner—”
I cover Clementine’s mouth with my hand. “Anyway, we have to get going. Clover, did you get enough pictures for socials?”
Clover throws me a shit-eating grin. “Almost. I could use one more of a couple people who aren’t me. Just to show how popular it is. Why don’t I get one of the two of you?” she asks, gesturing to Peyton and me.
I wipe a hand down my face. “Clover, I don’t—”
“Sure, why not?” Peyton cuts me off, standing beside me but leaving a foot or so between us.
“Oh. Um, okay,” I stumble, glancing at Peyton’s perfect smile before awkwardly smiling for the camera myself.
Clover frowns behind her phone. “Cal. Quit hunching like that. You look like you’re about to lure me in with a poison apple.”
“Jesus, Clover,” I mutter, standing taller.
The woman next to me covers her mouth to stifle a laugh, and I try to smile like a regular person.
Clover snaps a few photos before turning around and walking away, eyes cemented to her phone, no goodbye.
“Looks like we’re out,” Clementine quips. “Bye, Peyton!”
Peyton waves to her, then faces me. “Well, I guess this is goodbye, then.” Her words sound friendly enough, but something flashes across her face that I can’t quite read.
“Yeah. I guess it is. Um, enjoy being… an enigma, then. Hope the health benefits are good.”
She nods with a glint in her eye. “And you enjoy playing with your gadgets, Inspector. May you never uncover E. coli.”
I can’t hide my budding smile as I head out of the smoothie shop, wishing that I could predict the next time we’ll run into each other—if there is a next time.
Underneath her beauty and whatever hustle she’s running, I can’t deny I’m intrigued by her. I don’t know why she’s gotten so under my skin. I just have this burning desire to know her.