The Thief and the Globetrotter

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Diner

The waitress mercifully interrupted, sliding Gwen a menu, a glass of water, and a genial smile. Gwen pasted one on in return.

Baz's heart pounded in his ears. Maybe the waitress would hear his telepathic SOS signals, stick around to keep the talk of anything serious at bay. Let her try to make small talk for a bigger tip.

She didn't. She whisked off to serve other customers.

"Well?" Gwen raised a feline eyebrow. It was a dare. Worse, it might have been truth, a middle school girl at his first boy-girl party asking him to repeat the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to him. Gwen reminded him entirely too much of middle school, daring him to say the wrong thing in front of her, trying to trick him into it at every turn just to use it against him later. Start a vicious rumor.

Except, rumors now would lead to a lot more than an unfortunate nickname. If he slipped, she could get him arrested.

"I've been a little preoccupied. Trouble at work," Baz said. "Did the police track down that phone number? The one the hospital had listed?" He let his gaze flick up to her for a second. Not making eye contact probably said just as much as meeting her eye.

"You know, I managed to track it down myself. I remembered you telling me something about an apartment," Gwen said, tilting her head.

Baz stiffened, as if pulling from some ancient instinct that said if he didn't move, Gwen wouldn't see him. Shit. He had said that in a red wine haze. He told Gwen what he knew before he even figured it out for himself. The whole night had been a mistake, and if Baz hadn't seen the softer, undone side of Gwen, he might've believed that the entire invitation had been a power play. Maybe it was, but there had been a certain vulnerability there. Gwen was not an actress, but perhaps she was not beyond capitalizing on her own self-doubt.

Gwen could piece together the clues Baz cluelessly led her to; Baz had to reverse engineer a photograph in Rei's penthouse bedroom. All Gwen had to do was remember that her father owned an apartment building.

"Yeah. I guess I did," Baz said stiffly, "and still no Rei?"

This was just cross-examination under the guise of a chat. Why? Even Jasper had the decency to come straight out and threaten Baz. Gwen smiled.

"And still no Rei," Gwen mimicked back to him. "How long have you known, Baz?" She folded her hands in front of her. Her manicured nails suddenly looked more like deadly claws: blood red and fully prepared to sink into his chest and yank out his heart.

"Less than 48 hours," Baz said. What good would it do him to lie? Gwen was setting him up for failure, ready to extort fumbling deception from him when she already knew the truth. How was still unclear, but she undoubtedly did and Baz was rather disinterested in making the encounter worse by denying it.

"Did you tell her about wine night?" Gwen said, delicately jabbing at a weakness she'd already uncovered, both Baz's and maybe Rei's as well.

"What do you need from her, exactly?" Baz asked, sitting up a little bit straighter. Gwen wasn't the only one in possession of certain facts. Baz had his own up his sleeve and as long as he wasn't playing innocent bystander anymore, he might as well use Gwen's confrontation to seek out his own answers.

The waitress swooped back in, looking between them with a customer service smile pasted over her own clear instincts. There was no way she couldn't feel the tension.

Gwen ordered a fruit cup, sending the waitress away again, menu in hand. Gwen didn't look at him. Validation flooded in. Baz wasn't the only one who stooped to such a tactic. She couldn't deny that Rei mattered. Every conversation they had circled back to Rei.