trouble.
CHAPTER 6
AFTER dinner that night (six big fish — headless — filleted and fried in butter and flour, eve n bette r than a restaurant), Emily and I settled back against some logs not far from the fire where Matt had cooked our meal.
“So,” Emily said, “when you gonna go flirt with him some more?”
Warning! Danger, Will Robinson!
Could I slip away unnoticed and hide from my well-meaning friend? I remembered the bear we’d seen on our way here. Maybe wandering the woods at night would be worse than what I was going through right now, but not by much. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t want to get to know Matt better. It was that I did. And that scared me.
“I wasn’t flirting,” I burst out in a stage whisper. “I was fishing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.” Emily patted my hand. “It’s a normal healthy way to get to know someone, see if there’s any chemistry.”
“Then you flirt with him.”
Em grinned and looked across the firepit to where Matt was talking with Patty and Janice. “I’m not the one he’s flirting back with.”
I turned to her in surprise. Matt was flirting wit h m e ? Well, huh, I guess our playful banter could’ve been classified as…wow, okay. But I wasn’t comfortable with the idea yet, so I said, “I was just fishing.”
Emily snorted. “You were not.”
“I was too!” Why does everyone keep saying that?
“Oh? How many fish did you catch?” Emily folded her arms and looked at me.
I tried to think up a lie that wouldn’t make me laugh. “I caught…one…a great big one…but I had to throw him back…because…it was out of season.”
Emily started to giggle. “I don’t think you threw him back. You just want me to believe you did.”
I turned back toward the fire to try and hide my grin. “No, I did throw him back. I don’t much care for fresh fish and I don’t need a trophy to take home.”
“So don’t worry about a trophy. Just enjoy the sport.”
I looked at Emily in surprise. “I’m not really the sporting type.”
She leaned closer. “It’s a vacation. It’s not like the fish will follow you home.”
I hate to admit it, but Em’s arguments weren’t easy to dismiss. “I don’t know, Em,” I said. Though watching Matt, I was sorely tempted to follow her advice. “I’m not sure the cure isn’t potentially worse than the disease.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No way. No non-psycho is worse than Dirk. And you know someone who knows his family, so he’s probably not a psycho. The chances that you’ll wind up on the front page are almost nil.”
Naive girl found dead this summer in the Michigan wilderness. Known to have bad luck with men, she nonetheless made sport of flirting with the fishing guide. Her last known words were, “He’s safe. I know someone who knew his mother.”
I could see Em warming to her subject — matchmaking or flirting, I wasn’t sure which. I wanted to believe she was right. That flirting could be a safe, fun way to get a little fresh air into my weary soul. But it could also be stupid. After all, I came up here to get away from Heartbreak, not to see if I could go double or nothing.
“Trust me,” she said. “When have I led you astray?”
“I don’t know,” I wavered. “I haven’t flirted like that in a really long time. Over four years.” The idea was beginning to sound like fun but, when it comes to men, I have a history of making poor decisions. All of which seemed like good ideas at the time.
Em twisted herself to face me and grabbed my hands. “You were doing it today. Just up the amperage. Turn on your charms.”
“What do you mean? Kiss him? I can’t kiss him. I barely know him!” I could feel panic coursing through my veins. Why do I listen to her?
Emily laughed. “No, you don’t kiss him. You — well, I mean, if you want to kiss him, it’s dark and there’s a fire and moonlight, so it’d be perfect—”
“Em!” I whispered
CHAPTER 6
AFTER dinner that night (six big fish — headless — filleted and fried in butter and flour, eve n bette r than a restaurant), Emily and I settled back against some logs not far from the fire where Matt had cooked our meal.
“So,” Emily said, “when you gonna go flirt with him some more?”
Warning! Danger, Will Robinson!
Could I slip away unnoticed and hide from my well-meaning friend? I remembered the bear we’d seen on our way here. Maybe wandering the woods at night would be worse than what I was going through right now, but not by much. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t want to get to know Matt better. It was that I did. And that scared me.
“I wasn’t flirting,” I burst out in a stage whisper. “I was fishing.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, you know.” Emily patted my hand. “It’s a normal healthy way to get to know someone, see if there’s any chemistry.”
“Then you flirt with him.”
Em grinned and looked across the firepit to where Matt was talking with Patty and Janice. “I’m not the one he’s flirting back with.”
I turned to her in surprise. Matt was flirting wit h m e ? Well, huh, I guess our playful banter could’ve been classified as…wow, okay. But I wasn’t comfortable with the idea yet, so I said, “I was just fishing.”
Emily snorted. “You were not.”
“I was too!” Why does everyone keep saying that?
“Oh? How many fish did you catch?” Emily folded her arms and looked at me.
I tried to think up a lie that wouldn’t make me laugh. “I caught…one…a great big one…but I had to throw him back…because…it was out of season.”
Emily started to giggle. “I don’t think you threw him back. You just want me to believe you did.”
I turned back toward the fire to try and hide my grin. “No, I did throw him back. I don’t much care for fresh fish and I don’t need a trophy to take home.”
“So don’t worry about a trophy. Just enjoy the sport.”
I looked at Emily in surprise. “I’m not really the sporting type.”
She leaned closer. “It’s a vacation. It’s not like the fish will follow you home.”
I hate to admit it, but Em’s arguments weren’t easy to dismiss. “I don’t know, Em,” I said. Though watching Matt, I was sorely tempted to follow her advice. “I’m not sure the cure isn’t potentially worse than the disease.”
She shook her head adamantly. “No way. No non-psycho is worse than Dirk. And you know someone who knows his family, so he’s probably not a psycho. The chances that you’ll wind up on the front page are almost nil.”
Naive girl found dead this summer in the Michigan wilderness. Known to have bad luck with men, she nonetheless made sport of flirting with the fishing guide. Her last known words were, “He’s safe. I know someone who knew his mother.”
I could see Em warming to her subject — matchmaking or flirting, I wasn’t sure which. I wanted to believe she was right. That flirting could be a safe, fun way to get a little fresh air into my weary soul. But it could also be stupid. After all, I came up here to get away from Heartbreak, not to see if I could go double or nothing.
“Trust me,” she said. “When have I led you astray?”
“I don’t know,” I wavered. “I haven’t flirted like that in a really long time. Over four years.” The idea was beginning to sound like fun but, when it comes to men, I have a history of making poor decisions. All of which seemed like good ideas at the time.
Em twisted herself to face me and grabbed my hands. “You were doing it today. Just up the amperage. Turn on your charms.”
“What do you mean? Kiss him? I can’t kiss him. I barely know him!” I could feel panic coursing through my veins. Why do I listen to her?
Emily laughed. “No, you don’t kiss him. You — well, I mean, if you want to kiss him, it’s dark and there’s a fire and moonlight, so it’d be perfect—”
“Em!” I whispered
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