BENEDICT
The ocean air on the back deck was cold, damp, and smelled of salt.
I leaned my forearm against one of the cedar pillars supporting the upper balcony, taking a slow sip of my scotch. Upstairs, through the illuminated glass, I could see Valerie standing by her vanity, pulling her hair back into a clip. Down here, the rest of the crew was down on the beach setting up the fire pit, leaving the main patio temporarily deserted.
The heavy glass sliding door behind me slid open with a harsh, metallic scrape.
I didn't turn around. I didn't need to. The sharp, aggressive footfalls on the wooden deck told me exactly who it was.
Nathan slammed a silver ice bucket down onto the outdoor table, his breath coming in agitated hitches. He walked right into my peripheral vision, his arms
