New Twins in Town
Copyright© 2024 by AuroraAccident
Chapter 10: The End of Camp
First off, thank you for your patience. Hopefully this wait wasn’t too bad. This chapter is on the longer end, so fingers crossed it feels worth the extra time I needed to get it to you. Thanks again to AuroraIncident, Boots, and adub who helped get ideas fleshed out and caught most of my spelling, gramatical, and continuity issues. I’ve also been in ccntact with two people who aren’t native English speakers, with the hopes of them giving feedback on wordplay that may not translate well.
Friday, August 25, 6:31 AM, Belews Lake field
Miles anticipated chaperones when he exited the cabin. What he hadn’t anticipated was two dozen adults staking their claim across the lawn. He stepped forward, intrigue for the proceedings winning out over his desire to expel his excess energy.
“What’s going on?” He asked the first person he came across, uncertain if they were chaperone or stranger.
“Last day of camp,” the man answered. “Gotta get set up so food is ready by this afternoon.”
Looking to the parking lot, which was full for the first time since they’d arrived at camp, the busses barely stood out when sandwiched between the SUVs, lifted pickups, and trailers that had arrived before the sun. From them, their occupants brought forth gobbets in need of an open flame. Some, submerged in marinades of various colors, others, blanketed in spices that tickled Myles’s nostrils even before heat was applied.
The run was a wash. It was hours until breakfast, but the smorgasbord being showcased only stood to increase his appetite to uncomfortable levels.
“It’s gonna be real hard to concentrate on the performance later, isn’t it?” Seph said as she appeared next to him.
Surprised, Miles looked her up and down, not fully convinced he wasn’t just imagining her. “It can’t already be time to get up.”
“No,” she giggled. “Couldn’t sleep. Get too excited about playing in front of people.”
“Jitters?”
“Excitement,” she confirmed. “Plus, it’s good to keep tabs on which of the parents get here earliest. Gives you an idea of who’s serious about it. Once I heard folks getting set up, I knew I could get the inside scoop on what to snag this evening.”
“You don’t think that may be construed as rude? Ogling them while they’re setting up.”
She chuckled. “‘Construed as rude,’ nice. But no. I think you’re missing something. Some of these people spend the whole year waiting for summer to come around so they can do this kinda thing,” Seph explained. “Hours crafting what they believe to be the perfect recipe. Something they’ll either pass along to their kids or take it to the grave before letting someone else in on what they’ve concocted.”
“Kinda seems like a waste to spend all that time working on something, only to have it lost forever once you’re gone,” Miles reflected.
“Pretty sure that’s why some families have a lot of kids,” she shrugged. “Better chance at least one of them will share interests and carry that legacy for at least another generation.”
“Didn’t you say you have five sisters?”
“Ouch! Way to not listen to the things I tell you,” Seph mocked taking offense. “I have three sisters. I said I’m one of five siblings.”
“My mistake,” he smirked. “So, your dad isn’t one of the ones...”
“Oh, heavens no!” Seph insisted. “Dad’s got a good head on his shoulder and doesn’t get so invested in such trivial matters.”
“Oh,” Miles couldn’t help but sound a bit disappointed. “Sorry, I guess I just assumed that-”
“It’s my mom that’s the crazy one,” Seph pointed across the field. “Miles, believe me when I tell you, there is not a brand of barbecue sauce in the state, or, more accurately, tri-state area, I haven’t had to try and then immediately been asked if it was better than her’s.”
Miles considered this, “So, you’re guaranteeing her’s are better than any I’ve ever found in a store?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Oh ... so, you had to tell her that her’s weren’t as good as-”
“Shhh, don’t finish that sentence. In fact, purge that thought from your head. I wasn’t being facetious? She is insane over these sauces. A real loon. Like, should probably be placed in a padded room over her obsession. But I’m sure she’s going to adore you, so c’mon, if I don’t make introductions I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Miles could only gulp before Seph seized his hand and propelled him across the field nearly as fast as one of his morning runs. To his relief, she didn’t bee-line toward her mother. Instead, they slalomed the various heating appliances checker-boarding the field. Each grill passed, a new sizzle. Each smoker, a different aroma. Meats by the pound. Some, soaked in marinades of colors Miles couldn’t name, but only recognized from their sliver on the first half of any rainbow. Others, rubbed till they glistened or were coarse to the touch. Often both. Most of the proteins he could name at a glance. The flavor profile of cattle, poultry, and swine having been common place through his entire life.
“You tried rabbit before?” Seph asked as she waved at one of the grill-masters.
“Y’know, growing up watching Bambi, I never looked at Thumper and thought ‘mmm delicious’,” he confessed before a 10-gallon pot caught his eye. “Oh, what the heck is that?”
“Looks like a gumbo to me,” she said before taking a closer look. “Gator?”
The person smiled and nodded.
“You guys serve alligator here?” Miles whispered as they stepped away.
“Not too often, I don’t think anyone actually hunts or farms them around these parts,” she considered. “Specialty butcher would have it though. But I’m pretty sure he drives his up from Louisiana.”
“So you’ve tried it before, is it good?”
“That gumbo? Oh yeah!” Seph turned to Miles, excitement in her eyes. “You gotta get in on that before it’s gone.”
“You guys really aren’t screwing around with this barbecue,” he acknowledged. “Has anything gone extinct in the process of feeding the band in the past?”
“Uh ... as far as I know there isn’t anything to directly link us to the santer’s disappearance, but it’s safe to say you won’t find them around here anymore.”
“I don’t even know where to start with a follow up question.”
“Good, cause we’re here.”
Like the dozens of other parents who had arrived before the sun, Seph’s mother was fully invested in ensuring her contribution to the evening’s meal was up to snuff.
“Mom ... mom... Moooom,” Seph forced her mother’s attention.
“Heard your first caterwaul, dear. Do you not see what step I’m at?” the elder said without bringing her attention from the pot she continuously added ingredients to. “This is a very delicate point in spice inclusion.”
“Easy, Slughorn,” Seph cried. “We were just poppin’ in to say hi.”
“We?” Her mother’s voice contained more than a hint of curiosity to it as she turned. “I figured I’d hear you play that little wake up jingle before I got a chance to speak with you.”
“Still got a few minutes, and I was too excited to sleep in,” Seph said bluntly.
“Excited? Or anxious?”
“That’s what he asked.”
“Uh huh, and your answer was?”
“Eh, little bit of column B, a bit more of column A,” she shrugged. “Plus, I wanted to introduce you to Miles. He just moved here and is gonna be second chair this year. Miles, this is my mom. Mom, Miles. Miles, mom.”
Miles glanced between the two women as Seph’s mom shook her head.
“You’d think I raised her in a barn. Seph, he’s not going to call me mom,” laughed the parent. “Miles, I’m Mrs. O’Hara.”
His extended hand was waved off.
“Normally, yes, but as you can see,” she indicated to her hand adorned in green flakes and dots of various colors. “I’m covered in...”
“Eleven herbs and spices?” Miles suggested.
“Clever,” she smiled. “The Colonel’s got nothing on me.”
“Mom, he’s dead,” Seph rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, ‘cause he heard the game I was bringing. Knew it was time to call it a day.”
“So, expect some franchises to pop up soon?” Miles humored.
“When the market is right and the public has trained their pallets to properly appreciate the complexity of these flavors,” Mrs. O’Hara said, showcasing the bubbling concoction as if she’d been mentored by Vanna White herself.
“You doing your chili?” Seph asked, her tongue wetting her lips. “Miles, if you can only try two dishes later, you gotta get in on mom’s chili and Mr. Gordon’s gumbo.”
“Oo, Doug’s making that again? That will be a treat.”
“Mr. Gordon...” Miles repeated. “Hey, he wouldn’t happen to be Mel’s dad, would he?”
Seph furrowed her brow, “Miles? Just because they share the same last name and he just so happens to be making the signature dish of Louisiana, it doesn’t mean they’re related.”
“Oh,” he said, defeated.
“I mean, he is her dad,” Seph admitted as her stern face gave way to a smile. “It was just rude of you to make an assumption.”
“Persephone, stop messing with your friend. Miles here made what we call an ‘educated guess.’ And shame on you for not making proper introductions,” her mom chimed in before giving Miles a proper look-over.
Instinctually, he straightened his stance.
“Smart,” Mrs. O’Hara said, more to herself than the two in front of her. “Obviously Mel’s accent gives away her heritage. Then, as soon as you heard the last name you put two and two together.”
Miles tried not to let his pride show.
“Course...” she continued, rocking her head from side to side as she weighed alternate possibilities. “Could also mean stupid. Maybe you think all people sharing a last name are related. Seph, he dumb?”
“Mom,” Seph quietly growled through gritted teeth. “He’s in more AP classes than me.”
“Didn’t ask if he was bookish.”
“No, mom! He’s not dumb.”
“Also, not deaf,” Miles added with a wave. “Standing right here and can hear everything you’re saying.”
“Yeah, but you’re not gonna be offended,” Mrs. O’Hara said matter-of-factly. “I already acknowledged your wit with the KFC reference you made. Now, I must apologize for my lack of tact, but I just wanted to see how Sephie would react to me teasin’ ya. And, let’s face it, I think we all learned a little something from her response.”
Seph looked up to the cloudless sky, “Kill me now.”
“Seph, you know better than that,” her mother chided again. “He’s far too busy making people’s lives miserable as a test of faith. In my decades on this earth, I’ve put together what you might call a ‘shit-list’ of people who really have it coming to them. You think He, in His infinite knowledge, infinite existence, and personal relationships with each and every one of us, would deem you worthy enough to make His smite-list? Let me tell ya’, it’s gonna take a bit more than your mum teasin to make His list. You’d be competing with murderers, and rapists, and IRS agents. Seph, compared to them, you’ve barely put in an effort.”
“Mom, you can’t just-”
“So, you’re in a few AP classes, eh?” Mrs. O’Hara directed her attention back to Miles. “And you’re second trumpet?”
Miles smirked, gaining some understanding of the relationship between the two women. “I mean, just until I can respectfully challenge without causing Seph to lose face in front of our classmates.”
“How dare you, sir,” the scowl Seph wore did little to hide the grin hiding beneath. “And after I gave you the inside scoop on what may be the best dining experience of your life. How dare you? No wait, I do. I absolutely dare you. Go ahead. When Boon allows it, challenge me. I will wipe the floor with you.”
“Seph!” Her mother scolded again. “Like anyone could ever get you to clean a floor.”
Through wide eyes and gritted teeth, Seph growled. “Mo-om!”
“Miles, have you noticed, has she been putting on enough sun screen while y’all are out here? She’s lookin a bit red in the face.”
“Mother!”
“So,” Mrs. O’Hara, satisfied with embarrassing her daughter, turned back to the food she was preparing. “It seems as if you two have been getting along?”
“Yeah, he’s great,” Seph said, clearly relieved to get the conversation directed elsewhere. “Not only is he great at the trumpet, he played dad’s guitar the other night and, mom, you shoulda seen it. The whole retreat showed up and started dancing. Oh, and speaking of dancing. Apparently he has all these awards, and he’s been helping the trumpets get their marching form down. Actually, not just the trumpets but-”
As she spoke, Miles noticed the number of classmates who were taking the opportunity to assess what they’d be dining on later. He couldn’t determine if it had been the noise or savory aromas wafting into the cabins, but the abundance of students could only mean one thing.
“So great,” Miles interrupted. “That I’m going to stop your praise right there. And remind you that you have a task that needs to be completed before everyone sleeps the day away.”
“Aw, fudge,” Seph scowled, looking back and forth between Miles and her mother. “I don’t know if I trust you two to be alone together.”
“Please, child,” Mrs. O’Hara scoffed. “You know I’m a happily married woman.”
“You and dad aren’t happily married,” Seph said.
“Sorry, I misspoke,” her mother corrected. “What I meant to say is I’m a Catholically married woman. And really, what you’ve seen, that’s the epitome of a happy, healthy, Catholic marriage. Sorry you had to find out this way. That’s the best you can hope for.”
“Oh goody,” Seph sighed. “Okay, well, mom, I feel like I should ask you not to say anything embarrassing while I’m gone, but I figure there isn’t much hope of that happening.”
“Not a one,” her mother said proudly.
Seph sighed, “Y’know, I feel like I’m still making first impressions and all. So...” She shrugged. “Don’t verbally eviscerate me too badly.”
She turned to leave but Miles called out before she could make her exit.
“Hey, if today’s gonna be how I’m picturing, think you might wanna immortalize some moments of it on film?”
Seph beamed at the suggestion, “Right. Mom, Miles gave me a disposable camera. Do you think you could take some photos during our performance? I can probably finish the roll while we’re eating tonight.”
“Y’know,” her mom said critically. “We have these wonderful inventions. Fit right in your pocket. Can call people, access the internet, play games, and ... oh yes, take pictures without having to wait for them to develop.”
“Ugh, mom, you don’t get it,” Seph rolled her eyes. “I gotta go wake everyone but I’ll explain it when I get back.”
Miles couldn’t help but admire her figure as she retreated to her cabin.
“Ahem,” Seph’s mother cleared her throat. “Not sure about where you’re from, but around here we tend not to ogle the butts of girls, especially in front of their mothers.”
“I uh, oh, shoot,” the day had barely begun to warm up, yet Miles worried he might need to change his shirt before their performance. “I am so sorry about that. I don’t know why-”
“You don’t know? Are you suggesting that my daughter, my daughter, not have anything worth ogling?” The woman looked at him incredulously before breaking out in a smile. “Relax. I’ve had to play protective mama bear for all my children. At least with you there isn’t some giant age gap. Trust me, you can’t imagine how much it ruffles my feathers when I see someone older than myself undressing one of my kids with his eyes.”
Miles look away, unsure of how to respond.
“You should know though,” her mom provided. “She has a boyfriend, and they’re quite serious.”
Miles felt a tinge of guilt about the reminder, “I’ve ... been informed.”
She studied his face, “Good. Would have hated to have to be the one to dash your hopes.”
He gave her a weary look, “You’re saying you’d be heartbroken over my heartbreak?”
“Nah,” she shook her head. “I was just trying to be kind. I probably would have enjoyed it.”
“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.”
From their spot on the field, Miles watched as Seph reemerged from the girl’s cabin, trumpet in hand.
“Oh,” Miles winced. “You should probably know, the other morning, she got nervous to play solo in front of me. So, I’m not sure if she’ll feel more uncomfortable with all the-”
Before he could finish his thought, Seph performed the tune without hesitation or faults.
“Seemed alright there,” her mom acknowledged. “Y’know, I didn’t think of it when you two showed up just now, but you’re saying you two were also up together before the rest of camp the other day?”
“Uh,” Miles hadn’t considered how she might interpret that information. “We were just talking.”
“Miles,” she directed the tines of her grilling fork at him and he couldn’t determine if she were making a point or a threat. “I have five children, three of whom are no longer teenagers. I also have a grandchild. Let me just say, I know what ‘just talking’ can lead to, and it doesn’t exactly put me at ease.”
“I don’t, uh, I mean, I-”
“Oh gosh,” Seph’s mom giggled. “Either you’ve got it bad for her, or she’s had the time of her life teasing you. You’re fun. This’ll probably shape up to be an amusing year.”
“I’m sorry,” Miles mimed cleaning his ears out. “Did you say amusing or abusing?”
“A lego hurting when stepped on doesn’t diminish the joy it brings at other moments.”
Miles had no response, instead left wondering if the modern-age Confucius saying was off the cuff.
“Dude,” Chris’s voice was a welcome lifeline. “We should probably head to the caf’ before it gets busy.”
“And Hello to you too, Christopher,” Seph’s mom scoffed.
“Oh, sorry Mrs. O’Hara. I don’t know where my manners went,” he gave a soft wave.
“I should hope ‘to the caf,’ otherwise you may never find ‘em.”
He knew it was unlikely Seph’s mom’s teasing was an indication of favor, but Miles was nearly as disappointed in her banter with his friend, as he was Chris’s suggestion on where to eat. “The cafeteria?”
“Yeah. Last day of the retreat, with all the excitement, the performance, going home, not to mention the sights and smells from all the cooking, they’re aware how starved we’ll be by sun up, so they’re ready early.”
“But...” Miles gestured to the shimmering sea of silver and black appliances scattered across the field.
“Hate to break it to you, but everything is still several hours away from ready,” Mrs. O’Hara informed. “We do things low and slow around here. Not just to torture you kids, though that is a bonus. But it’s all about that sweet spot of flavor infused and mythically tender. And trust me, the first ones that are ready, aren’t the ones you’re gonna wanna eat.”
“Like filling up on bread when you’ve got a whole buffet to choose from,” Chris remarked, a tinge of sadness to his voice.
It was then that Miles realized that the sights and smells of the morning had made him ravenous. The near nonstop talk of food only furthered his cravings.
“Well, we should probably wait for Seph. Let her know where we’re going.”
“Don’t be silly,” her mother assured. “She’ll either see where you’re headin’ and meet on the way. Or she’ll find me, I’ll tell her I saw you meet some floozy and wander off.”
Miles saw the pair, but swallowed from the words she hadn’t intended to tease him with, “Could you please not use the word meet right now? I uh, hadn’t realized how much of an appetite I’d developed, and now you’re telling me the meats are off-limits.”
“For now,” she reminded. “After the performance, thats a whole other matter. Just be sure you save room for chili or you’ll regret it.”
“After how much you and Seph hyped it up? I’m bookin’ it here as soon as they cut us loose,” he pointed to the collection of paper bowls still in their packaging. “That one on top? Take a look, it’s got my name all over it.”
She made an exaggerated point to look at the bowl, “I was almost certain Seph introduced you as Miles, but if you’d like me to call you Dixie, it’s not gonna take much convincing.”
“Oh man,” Chris laughed. “She got you good. Nice seeing you again, Mrs. O’Hara.”
“Good to see you, Christopher,” she waved back. “And Dixie.”
Miles turned at the unfortunate new nickname.
“Miles,” she smirked “It was nice to meet you.”
“Normally, I’d claim the pleasure was all mine,” Miles said. “But there is no denying, you derived way more pleasure out of teasing each of us, than I was prepared for.”
“Why else would people become parents if not to tease their kids and their friends mercilessly?” She shrugged.
“Alright, on that note, we should go before you’ve restocked on things to berate us about,” Miles waved before turning to leave with Chris.
“Acknowledging that and then showing me your backside,” she called as they stepped away. “But no one ever said clever and foolish are mutually exclusive.”
Miles waited an extra-long time before he was willing to speak, “So, Seph’s mom. She’s kind of a lot.”
“Yeah, but she must like you,” Chris commented.
“Uh-huh, like a cat likes a frog it can bat around. Fun for the cat maybe, but the frog is just pummeled until it’s dealt the inevitable, accidental killing blow.”
“Nah, she teased you,” Chris assured. “Some people, myself included, have only seen that from the outside. I didn’t know she was capable of warming up to someone so quickly.”
“What are you talking about? She teased you too.”
“Not like that, dude, she teased you like she teases her kids,” Chris informed. “That’s gotta be a good sign.”
“Sign of what?” Miles asked. “I mean, I agree, if it means she likes me, that is good. But, it’s not like her mom would forbid her from associating with me if she didn’t like me, right?”
“Uh ... maybe?” Chris shrugged. “I know Catholics are big on guilt and shame. I don’t know, they could be big on forbid-ness too.”
“Oh.”
“Besides, that’s not even what I was getting at,” Chris looked around for anyone listening in. “It’s obvious you and Seph have a thing for each other. It probably isn’t going to hurt if her parents are fond of you too.”
“Are her parents not fond of that Cam guy?”
“Oh, no, her parents love Cam,” Chris laughed. “But y’know, they’re doing long distance now. And you’re here. You knew each other for like, a day, and couldn’t keep your lips off each other. You think that’s going to lessen when you’re spending like ... at least three hours together every day?”
“Three hours?”
“Jazz band, wind ensemble, lunch, plus any other classes you might have together,” Chris explained as they stepped into the busy cafeteria. “Not to mention, we’re gonna have marching band practice most evenings, and competitions, and-”
“Alright, alright! You made your point,” Miles chuckled. “So, is this just a you not liking Cam thing or...”
“Ah, no. Cams great,” Chris stated. “It’s just ... y’know, he’s not really one of us.”
Before Miles had a chance to follow up, his sister and her compatriots called out.
“So, y’all decided to get an early breakfast and let your appetites build up again before the feast later?” Amber asked.
Miles shook his head, “I honestly didn’t even realize they’d let us in this early until Chris told me.”
“Just for today,” Cleo clarified. “Dad says its ‘cause they’d rather have us in here or the auditorium. Figure its safer than having a hundred of us trying to march between open flames and propane cylinders.”
“Oh, well thats a terrifying thought,” Joe said as she stepped in to join the group. “Glad to know that the field is basically a ticking time bomb.”
“I don’t think dad would put it that way,” Cleo giggled.
“Oh, sorry. Powder keg waiting to go off?”
“I can actually hear him saying that,” Judy laughed.
Miles looked disappointedly at the array of food before him. The sandwiches, bagels, muffins, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and bowls of assorted fruit had offered a variety he hadn’t expected when he arrived at camp. But that had been nearly two full weeks ago. And this food had lost its appeal. Outside. That food was new. Outside. There was meat. Fat sweating off a pristine cut, coaxing the flame to kiss the spices that each cook generously encrusted each succulent morsel in. Miles’s stomach voiced its objection as he placed a few items on the tray he’d nabbed.
“The good thing?” Chris nudged him. “Because this stuff is so boring, there’s no risk in eating enough now to spoil your appetite for later.”
He hated to think of the food before him as boring. Looking up, he saw the staffer attending the trays wore an unfriendly expression.
“No offense,” he covered for Chris. “It’s been delicious every day. We really appreciate-”
“Nah, yer misreading me,” the cafeteria worker explained. “I can smell how delicious the things out there are. But I’m stuck in here with all this food all day, and my self-control ain’t so good.”
He couldn’t be positive, but Miles was fairly certain the man in front of him was the person who stood out on the dock while he and Pixie tread water beneath.
“Um,” he looked around wearily. “I’ll try to remember to snag you a plate once they’re ready to serve.”
The employees face lit up, “Hey kid, that’d be swell.”
With that, Miles and Chris, satisfied with what they’d came for, made their way to an open table.
“Why are you looking so smug?” Zoe asked as the drummers joined them.
“I look smug?”
“Oh, he’s all up on his Isaiah 58s,” Chris said, offering no further explanation.
“Uh...” Judy rolled her eyes. “Hey, lets pretend for a second that not all of us has the bible memo-”
“Ugh. It’s about fasting. Well, on the surface. But it’s really about sacrificing what y’all have for those who have less. So in Miles’s case, which is like, verbatim Isaiah 58:7, he’s volunteered to share his food with the hungry.”
“Hungry?” Judy scoffed. “Did somebody charge you two when you went to get your food? No one is supposed to be going hungry during camp.”
“Going hungry might be a bit of an overstatement,” Miles said.
“He told the cafeteria workers he’d bring them some of the outside food once it was ready,” Chris added.
“Woah,” Zoe remarked. “That’s awful generous of you.”
“Innit?” Chris asked. “Just gotta be careful lookin smug about it. Don’t let it turn to pride.”
“Wait, what? I wasn’t being smug. And Chris, you’re overselling it,” Miles clarified and pointed toward the cafeteria workers. “I just told the ... one...” he sighed, realizing how awkward that would be.
Judy caught his gaze with a raised eyebrow, “There are a lot of servers in there. You can’t just bring food for one of ‘em.”
“I wouldn’t have enough arms if I was an octopus. I’ll spend half the evening carrying food back here,” he groaned. “Anyone wanna help carry once it’s ready?”
“I will,” she offered.
“Yeah,” Cleo nodded. “Me too.”
“That’s really noble of y’all,” Chris said. “I kinda figured I’d float the idea of the cafeteria folks having the evening off. There’s always plenty of food. I don’t see why Boon wouldn’t let ‘em.”
“Let who what?” Seph asked as she took her seat. Pixie and Mel close behind.
“Chris is going to convince Boon to let the cafeteria folks have a half-day,” Miles said, enjoying the opportunity to turn the tables on his friend.
“Alright, cool,” Seph replied. “Just lemme wolf this down and we’ll go find him together.”
True to her word, Seph inhaled her small stack of cakes and diced fruits. As she rose from the table, Miles exchanged a look with his sister. The expressions she made whenever a girl their age acted in a way that was decidedly “unladylike” always brought a smile to his face.
While surveying the rest of their table, he made an observation; Pixie was not eating. She had food on her plate. The sandwich in her hands, she absentmindedly pulled apart. Never bringing the pieces to her lips, just further tearing them into smaller scraps. She may have taken a bite of the muffin she’d brought, but it was just as likely that the fragments pyramiding her plate could easily be reconstituted into proper muffin shape. He caught her eye and she flinched. Rather than address her peculiar behavior, she got up and carried the tray to the trash, tossing the remnants without anyone else from their table realizing what she’d done. Unable to take his eyes off her, Miles watched as she made her way to one of the doors. She gracefully looked back, the come-hither gaze she cast; impossible to ignore. He followed. Dumping what was left of his meal in the same bin.