Chapter 17: Ask Him

Cal's POV

Jo came up the stairs over the bike shop at seven that night with a folder under her arm and her chin up.

I had the second garlic attempt going on the stove.

It was not burnt, and I was smug about it.

"Sit," I said. "Eat first. Then you can tell me what's in the folder."

"It can't wait."

"It's pasta. It will wait."

She sat on the stool at my counter and put the folder down between us.

She told me everything.

She told it in order and with the dates.

The booking in Wylie's name, the card, the purple pen, and the line about the lesson.

When she got to the part about Bailey, she stopped, took a breath and said, "I want to do something and I need you to tell me if it's wrong."

"Okay."

"She'll try to knock me out of April. I think she will. I want to let her try, and I want it on paper when she does."

"A trap," I said.

"I want to watch her walk into her own mess. And I keep thinking that's exactly what he would do. Set it up and wait and call it a lesson."

She looked at me.

"So I'm asking. Is it wrong?"

I turned the heat down under the pan.

It took me a minute to understand what I was looking at.

She hadn't looked me up, or asked Lindy what I'd say, or worked it out beforehand so she could be ready for the answer.

She had walked into my kitchen with her hands empty and asked me a question.

"Jo," I said.

"Yes?"

"You know what Wylie would have done in your place?"

"What?"

"He wouldn't have asked."

She let out a short laugh, and then she put her palm over her mouth.

"Is it wrong to want her to lose?" she said through her fingers.

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