“They’re gone,” Matt said, directing his gaze to the bar.
She looked over her shoulder, and let out an exaggerated sigh of relief.
“Want me to walk you out to get a cab in case they’re still hanging around outside?”
“I have a rental car. But if you wouldn’t mind walking with me…？”
It was dark outside, late. The men were nowhere to be seen, which was a good thing. Matt could hold his own, but there were two of them and they looked like they’d been in their share of fights. And after he’d lost control on that frat boy, he’d pledged to stop with the fisticuffs.
A dog ran up to them. It was Smiley from earlier.
“Speaking of stalkers, this guy’s been following me since I got here.”
Hank crouched down and cupped Smiley’s face in her hand. “Oh my god. He’s so cute. Look at this face!”
The dog followed them down the main drag. Hank said, “He’s so friendly. I heard that you’ve got to be careful. There’re packs of wild dogs around here that are dangerous.” She looked at Smiley again. “But not this sweet boy.”
“You staying nearby?” Matt asked.
“No, we’re right on the beach. They wanted to be adventurous and explore the bars here in town. How about you?”
“I actually need to find a place. I was supposed to be in for just the day, but got delayed.”
“You came all the way here with nowhere to stay?” She seemed amused by that.
“Long story.”
“I’ll bet.”
“I’ll find somewhere.”
She gave him a sideways look like she knew better during the busy season. She stopped at a beat-up Toyota parked haphazardly on a side street.
“It was great to meet you,” Matt said. “Have a great time at the wedding.”
“You obviously haven’t seen the bridesmaid dresses.” She paused as if she were pondering something. “Hey, I won’t be surprised if our hotel has an opening. My brother booked a block of rooms and a couple people canceled last minute. I can drive you.”
“I don’t want to put you out.”
“You won’t be. Let’s call it a random act of kindness,” Hank said. “But I’ll warn you, it’s an eco hotel. My brother’s fiancée is an earthy type—vegan, environmentalist, self-righteous.”
Matt thought about his friend Sofia. “I love that type. And you know the first rule of Vegan Club, right?”
Hank shook her head.
“Tell everyone about Vegan Club.”
She laughed.
Matt dropped into the passenger seat. Hank drove down the gravel road, veering around people on old bicycles, past storefronts covered in graffiti and open-air food stands. After a while, the road turned desolate—the only light the weak beams from the rental car, thick forest on either side of them.
“You weren’t kidding about this place being in the middle of nowhere,” Matt said, breaking the quiet.
Hank gave him a quick smile.
Matt reached for his phone. She seemed to know where she was going, but he thought he’d look up the hotel. She said it was on the beach, but they seemed to be heading into a rural area away from the ocean.
“Shit,” he said.
“What is it?” Hank looked at him, but turned her eyes quickly back to the dark road.
“My phone, I must’ve left it at the bar.” Matt searched his pockets, then dug through the duffel, yanking out his clothes and the newspaper Keller had given him. Without a phone, he’d be screwed.
He started looking around the car somewhat frantically. “Would you mind pulling over?”
Hank hesitated. “We’re almost there,” she said.
“Please,” he said.
Hank slowed the car and parked on the gravel shoulder.
She turned on the car’s interior lights as Matt opened the passenger door, stepped outside, and crouched low, looking on the floorboards and under the seat. Why was he such an idiot with phones?
He climbed back inside and sat next to Hank, defeated. He was about to ask her to take him back to the bar when he noticed she was staring intently at the New York Times story, studying the photos of Matt and his family.
Hank looked at him. “This is—wait—this is why you’re here? This is your family?”
Matt gave a tiny shrug.
She looked at the newspaper again and back at Matt. “Oh my god.” She had a faraway look in her eyes.
“Sorry,” Matt said. “I would’ve told you—I just didn’t want to put a damper on the night.”