We stared back at him, looking like the least affectionate fake couple in the history of unnecessary hoax relationships. My eyes swiveled to Will's, and his to mine, in a wordless conversation about which one of us should deny that we were a couple. I raised my eyebrows in a silent do you give a shit? Will replied with a minute shake of the head, a silent fuck it.
Ted carried on brightly. "Shoulda guessed when I saw you. You were wearing Will's Shot Keys T-shirt."
"Shot Keys?"
Ted gestured at Will's threadbare straight-guy T-shirt with tour dates on it. Maybe I had been wearing that when I'd run away from Ted's advances.
"Never heard of the Shot Keys? We're only the best band in the County," laughed Ted. "Nah, I'm joking. We don't even tour anymore. Our drummer's girlfriend just had a baby two weeks ago. Looks like band practice isn't gonna happen for a while."
"You're not a jazz band, are you?"
Ted elbowed Will in the ribs knowingly. "No, mostly punk and funk and psychedelic rock. I do vocals and rhythm guitar."
I nodded, wondering if I'd heard any Shot Keys songs on Arenosa County Radio over the past weeks.
"What music are you into, Zephyr?"
"Classical music mostly. I'm a piano teacher." It was the first time I'd introduced myself as that, and it made my heart swell to hear it out loud. I caught Will's expression out of the corner of my eye; he looked so buzzed to hear it out loud too.
"You're educating Zephyr about jazz, right?" Ted stretched up his palm toward Will, who high-fived him with a grin.
"Don't need to. Zeph's educating himself."
Fucking jazz-nuts everywhere.
Ted hoisted up his cup-laden tray. "We're playing at Lavanderia on Memorial Day Weekend. You guys should come."
"Sure, we'll come. Jules will come with us for sure," I said, ignoring the fact that I had no idea if I'd still be in the States on Memorial Day, or if Will would be well enough post-surgery to go see a band. But it all seemed too far into the future to worry about. Like everything else.
Charlotte arrived, fiddling with her pearls and looking a little disappointed that I was sitting in the coveted hidden corner seat on the terrace. A blouse and loose pants rendered her way less scary and billionairess-y than she'd looked at the funeral. We all exchanged nervous air-kisses as she sat next to Will.
"Guillermo and the girls are just playing on the beach." She pointed at two little figures prancing in the surf next to what looked like a hulking section of brick wall in a pair of sunglasses.
"Woah. That's Guillermo the Police Commissioner?" I asked, peering across the beach. Guillermo did not look like he lived behind a desk. In fact, I couldn't imagine that he'd even fit behind a desk. "Dude does not skip leg day."
"Shut up, Zefissimo," Will chuckled, shaking his head at me. His nerves seemed to have gone, and he smiled along as Charlotte spoke.
"He's a very...hands-on Commissioner," Charlotte said, as if she was totally used to people gawping at Guillermo's massive fucking everything. "He still occasionally teaches combat techniques for the officers, and conflict management and de-escalation training. Not much happens in Arenosa County compared to our days at Maria P.D., though."
Guillermo was spinning around at the water's edge at dizzying speed with both girls hanging off his enormous forearms.
"Sabrina loves your lessons, Zeph. Her grades are improving with them. And Will, I cannot believe how the swimming lessons...she's very happy."
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The Sigma Asset 🏳️🌈 (bxb)║AMBYS WINNER 2022
Mystery / Thriller**AMBYS 2022 WINNER** He'll never play piano again. That's what virtuoso pianist Zephyr has vowed to himself after escaping Sigma, the sprawling criminal organisation that once held him--and still holds his friends--captive in California's mega-city...
33: The Lunch Party
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