Saturday 10.17am Scarlett After a truly ghastly flight with some of the worst turbulence I’ve experienced, I finally make it to the wedding destination, sick to my stomach, my headache back again, and in no mood to see my sister or anyone else. Because it was too bumpy for food to be served on the plane, I’m now feeling lightheaded. With my stomach grumbling as much as my head, I park my rental outside the front of the shared accommodation my little sister has organized. I climb out, stretch out my back, and inhale the dusty, arid air, that burns my nostrils. I still have no idea why she wanted to get married in an old mining town. I’m a little squeamish about places like that. Yes, they are historical, but it still creeps me out a little. Everything about this weekend is the exact opposite of how I’d have pictured Chelsea’s wedding. She’s got guests flying in from all over the country and making them give up their entire weekend just to go see her get married on a hilltop in an ancient church. At the squeal coming from behind me, I turn, already dreading having to fake how excited I am. Chelsea looks like she always does. Like a blonde bubble of light, her pale skin covered in the shimmery lotion she likes. Before she throws her arms around me, I notice she looks a little drawn. Not surprising, given it’s her wedding day and according to her and to mom, she’s been flying all over the country with the Burrows’ family the last three weeks. She doesn’t give me a second to respond as she starts babbling about things I’m way too tired to care about. “Isn’t this just the best? And wait till you see where I’m getting dressed in Macetown. It’s the complete opposite. It’s tiny! I barely have enough room to dress in. But it’s the best I could find. Nathan has been so generous. Michael’s been so busy, but Nathan always makes time for me. Isn’t that sweet?” She tugs me towards the massive villa, and I have to force myself to smile. “Where’s the honeymoon again?” “Aspen. We fly there right after the ceremony in Macetown. I’ve already been there a few times before. The Burrows’ have a vacation home there.” I fake my enthusiasm as she lists the appetizers, shows me her gigantic ring, tells me her dress is simple but classy, and control my disdain at being forced to room with my relatives. Even if it is a nice place, with state-of-the-art facilities, a jacuzzi, and a garden, I’d still rather have stayed in a hotel room rather than share common areas with my parents. “Where is Michael? I was hoping to get to know him a little better before the ceremony.” She flops into a plump chair and yawns. “At the airstrip with the pilot, Dexter, then he’s probably doing something boring to do with his business.” My eyebrows rise. “Business? He’s working?” She shrugs but her face falls slightly, and her smile seems a little forced. “He never stops working. But I can make the best of it.” It’s such an odd thing to say; I take a seat on the leather couch that probably cost more than my car. “What does Michael do again? I read an article about his father being in oil or gold?” Her smile slips a little and she waves her hand in the air like it’s not important. “Oh, I don’t know any of that. You know me, who cares where the money comes from as long as it’s there.” I frown at her, ready with a protest that if she’s marrying him, she should probably take more interest, but she’s already moving on to another subject. A lewd smile tugs at her lips. “I swear, if I wasn’t getting married, I could do all sorts of things with Dexter. He’s smoking hot. You should totally go on a private flight with him. I bet he could make you smile.” I shouldn’t be surprised she’s trying to set me up. But I’m also aware she’s deflecting. “So, you don’t mind Michael isn’t around?” She pulls a face at me and groans. “Can we please not get into this? I want you to have fun this weekend. You remember fun, don’t you? In this case, fun comes in the form of an incredibly sexy pilot who is single.” Since I don’t want to hear about the pilot or anything to do with flying, I gesture to the door. “I need to get my bag. Which room is mine?” Her eyes sparkle and I can see her conjuring up reasons why I should be interested in her idea of fun. “Top floor. I picked the king that has a shared bathroom. Dex is on the other side of you.” I’m sure I misheard her. “What? The pilot is staying here too?” She grins at me. “He said he was happy to drive back to the base, but I insisted he stay here. He should be back in a few hours. I’ve already told him you’ll be going up after lunch.” It takes all my effort not to walk back out the door and find another place to stay. It’s obvious she’s trying to force us together. “I literally just got off a terrible flight, so I’m not interested in more flying. And I’m certainly not here to hook up with some random guy.” At the crestfallen look on her face, I amend my previous statement. “I’m tired and I’ve got a headache I need to get rid of. Maybe I’ll go for a flight tomorrow?” Her brow puckers but she nods. “Sure. He’s here all weekend. Never know, he could be the one to break your dry spell.” I keep my annoyance to myself that she’s bringing up a delicate and touchy subject. “Not everyone is obsessed with sex. Some of us get along perfectly fine without it in our lives.” She rolls her eyes, but the tease has gone from her voice. “You’re only saying that because you’re never been laid properly. If you had, you’d be a little more open to new experiences. Maybe a one-night stand is what you need to get over Cal?” I’m not about to get into an argument right before her wedding so I smile through my pain. “I don’t need life lessons from my little sister. Cal hurt me and I’m doing everything I can to avoid that again. Can we please stop mentioning his name?” She looks at me with such pity my hackles rise. “Forget it. I’m going to go take a nap before I say something I regret.” Her mouth opens and she looks ready to try to stop me, so I hold up a hand. “I’m getting my bag.” I turn on my heel and head back out into the bright sunlight that causes me to squint and pain to shriek through my head. I grab my bag from the back of my car and duck inside. When I step back inside, Chelsea’s waiting at the bottom of the stairs, a naughty look on her face. I groan. “What?” She shrugs her narrow shoulders. “I was just thinking about the reception.” My head hurts so bad it takes me a few steps upward to realize what’s she’s getting at. When we reach the second floor, I hastily shake my head and instantly wish I hadn’t. “Do not invite the pilot to the reception for me.” She doesn’t answer; just shows me the room. “I can’t not invite him. It makes sense he’s there. And he’s a friend of a friend of Michael’s soooo...” I have no energy left for fighting with her. I can’t blame her for wanting to set me up. If she’s genuinely happy, she probably just wants me to be too. I release a sigh. “Fine, invite him. It’s your wedding. But please quit with the matchmaking, okay?” Her lip pushes forward in a pout I suspect works on her fiancé, but she doesn’t pursue it. Or rather she doesn’t keep talking. But knowing her, she won’t stop until she gets what she wants. And since she’s not pushing for the fancy wedding she always said she wanted; maybe she knows more about love than I think she does? I exhale a breath and smile at her as she fluffs up her hair. “I’ll think about what you said.” She grins at me. “Trust me. There’s a whole new world out there just waiting for you.” I’m not so sure I’m ready for a whole new world, I can barely manage this one, but with a promise to be on time for lunch, I close my door on her. I scan the room and find it just as plush and luxurious as the rest of the villa. She wasn’t lying about the King Size bed. It dominates the room. And right now, there is nowhere else I’d rather be. Unlike my little sister, I’m happy to be sleeping alone. I dig around in my purse for some Advil, swallow them, grab my sleeping mask, strip off my clothes and slide under the sheets. *** Dexter Saturday 10.46am With the smell of AV Gas filling my nostrils, I pull up to the hanger to find money bags waiting for me beside his brand-new BMW X6. If money could walk, it would look like Michael Burrows. He’s just the kind of guy I hate. Entitled, educated, and thinks he can do and say whatever he wants because his father is so connected, he can fix anything. He doesn’t bother with a handshake. He didn’t when we met yesterday either. Just looks down his nose at me, like I’m an inconvenience he has to put up with. He glances at his Rolex and looks at me. “You’re late.” Considering I had to ask permission to be here and had to jump through all manner of hoops to accommodate him, I just stare at him. He clears his throat and looks at the hanger door. “I need you to fly me to Macetown. I have an associate meeting me there.” I glance at the hamper on top of his BMW and nod slowly. “I’ll need twenty minutes to do the pre-flight checks.” He sighs heavily and looks like a petulant child denied a toy. “I don’t have twenty minutes to spare. I’m a busy man.” I fold my arms across my chest and lean against my beat-up old truck. “FAA regulations mean I can’t take you up unless I complete a full safety check. I also need time to calc—” He interrupts me with a head shake. “Fine. But next time I call and tell you to meet me here, be fuelled up and have the plane ready to depart.” I work my jaw so hard my teeth start to ache. But I give him a clipped nod and push off my truck. While I get to work checking the plane over and making sure we have enough fuel, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I grimace at the name on the screen and duck behind the tail, so Michael doesn’t hear me. “Chelsea. What can I do for you?” Her voice is breathy and light. Just like she is. No substance. A perfect match for Michael really. “Hey, Dex. Can you swing by the villa for lunch?” That she’s using my nickname pisses me off. “I don’t—” “Oh, please come. Mom made way too much food and dad said he’s going crazy with all the estrogen in the house. He practically begged me to ask you.” That brings a smile to my face. I lean on the tail and listen to Michael snapping at someone on the other end of the phone. “Is Michael going to be there too?” Chelsea sounds distracted when she replies. “No. He’s busy doing secret groom things with his Yale pals.” That does make it infinitely more appealing. When Michael told me I’d be staying in the fancy villa with them, I was sure he was kidding. But he wasn’t. And the more time I spend with the whole lot of them, the more I realize Michael’s more interested in his business out here than his fiancé. I know she’s got an ulterior motive for wanting me at lunch. It’s bad enough I’m forced to stay with them like I’m the hired help, but the mom and dad are okay even if Chelsea is a pain in my ass. “Michael won’t be there. But my sister will be,” Chelsea adds. Ah. And there’s the ulterior motive. “Right. The physical therapist.” “Yup. So make sure you are all cleaned up for lunch, okay?” She doesn’t give me an out, just ends the call leaving me with no option but to go. With a sigh, I slide my phone back in my pocket and carry on with my pre-flight safety checks. I should be happier about this. It’s easy money. And the Wing Commander knows I’m here, so that’s already one point in my favor. But with the number of references to her older sister, it’s apparent her friendliness comes with expectations. I finish up my checks, calculate how much fuel we’ll use between here and Macetown and look at Michael standing impatiently by his car. A private airstrip, hanger and a plane? No wonder he’s got a petite blonde thing on his arm. And I have to just grit my teeth and bare it. Pretend I don’t mind his little woman ordering me about like I’m on his staff. I don’t do families, I don’t do weddings, and I especially don’t do blind dates. If that’s what Chelsea is trying to achieve, she’s going to be sorely disappointed. I gesture to Michael and he looks about as indignant as I’d have expected. I don’t think he’s had to wait for anything in his entire life. I tell him to take a seat in the cabin, and with more than a little pleasure, tell him we have a few more minutes of safety checks. *** After another unpleasant flight with Michael, and a landing in the unmanned airstrip in Macetown, I make a flawless landing and have him back in time for whatever it is he’s complaining he’s late for. As he hurries to his BMW, he sends one final reminder I’m beneath him. “Don’t feel you have to linger at lunch. I need you back here by two at the latest.” I don’t even reply; just pretend my phone is ringing. “Got to take this.” I jam the phone against my ear, and he gives me one final glare before he jumps behind the wheel. It’s surprising he came out here alone. Usually, he has his entourage with him. I lock up the hanger, shove the keys in my pocket, and jump in my truck. Since my air con is busted, I roll my window down and drive out of the private airstrip and back towards the villa. To save me from thinking about smacking the entitled smirk off Michael’s face, I think about the possible brownie points I’m earning. I haven’t seen the Wing Commander Halberg yet. But according to the chatterbox fiancé, he’ll be at the reception. And if I keep to myself, don’t rock the boat, I can get out of here without any trouble. It takes ten minutes to make my way back to the villa, and when I do, I see a new rental parked up, letting me know the sister has arrived. I grimace, wishing I wasn’t lumbered with an informal date for the wedding, and pull myself out of the truck and take the back entrance like I’m a servant. When the coast is clear, I slip up the stairs and unlock the door to my bedroom. I strip off my dusty shirt, kick off my boots and open the door to the bathroom. At the steam still in the room, and the sweet scent of shampoo, I frown and back up a step, but not before a knockout brunette, wet and dripping steps out of the shower. “Damn it,” she curses. For a second I think she’s noticed me, but she’s rubbing at her eyes like she got soap in them. With her eyesight compromised it gives me way too much time to take in the ample curves and her incredible tits. She’s glistening, coated in a sheen of water that clings to her skin and makes all the blood rush to my cock. She finds a towel as I back up, unable to tear my eyes away from the walking hardon before me. Even wrapped in a towel, she’s still gorgeous. Like an Amazonian Princess right out of my teenage fantasies involving Xena. Physically she’s nothing like her sister. She’s taller, hips wider, stomach a little more rounded, and I’m staring at her way too long. I take another step back out of the enormous bathroom and pray I can sneak back out without her seeing me. My elbow knocks against the door and she spins, her mouth opening in horror as she spies me. With nothing left to do, I hold my hands up and hope she’s the forgiving type. “Sorry. I didn’t know it was occupied. And I didn’t see anything,” I lie. Her eyes widen and I think she’s either about to scream or yell at me, but she does neither. She yanks the towel up higher and hisses. “Get out!” I try for a smile and back out into my room as she slams the door in my face. I hear the lock twist and know I have to smooth this over before she tells her sister. I lean on the door and raise my voice. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? It was an honest mistake. I didn’t know you were in there.” I can hear her banging around but she’s not answering me. I wait a few minutes before trying again. “Can we talk about this?” The door jerks open and I nearly fall into the bathroom. She’s standing, glaring at me, dressed in figure-hugging jeans and a top that does nothing to remove the memory of what’s underneath. I straighten and extend my hand. “I’m Dexter; you can call me Dex. Could we just forget this happened?” Her eyes flick to my outstretched hand, and I’m relieved when her fingers reluctantly grip mine. “Scarlett, and fine. I don’t want anyone knowing about this either.” She shakes but doesn’t release my hand immediately. “I especially don’t want my sister knowing about this. She’ll take it as confirmation.” Her hand drops to her side, and I cock my head at her. “Confirmation of what?” She exhales and rubs at her temple like she’s in pain. “It doesn’t matter.” Her eyes run over my bare chest and she gestures into the bathroom. “Shower’s all yours.” I’m so relieved she’s not making a big deal out of it; I grin at her and say the first thing that comes to mind. “How about I make things even?” Her cheeks flush and she looks incredibly flustered. “I thought you didn’t see anything?” Ah, whoops. “I may have seen a little.” Her mouth slackens and she swallows and pulls her shoulders back. “Define little.” I’m dangerously close to making this worse, so I step towards the shower and switch it on. My hands are on my jeans and I’m tugging at them when I answer. “Okay. I saw a lot.” Her eyes trail over my chest and linger on my groin and her voice comes out throaty as I slowly unzip my jeans. “You aren’t really going to do this, are you?” I shrug. “Fairs fair. I saw yours you can see mine. Tit for tat—” Her palms slide to her eyes. “I get it; I get it!” With her fingers still over her face, she turns her back on me and closes the door. When I hear the lock click, I’m slightly disappointed she didn’t stick around. I shake it off, take my jeans off, and try not to think about the incredibly sexy woman who just happens to be one door away from me. As the water runs down my chest, I pick up a bottle of her shampoo and open the cap. I sniff and can’t help but think about things I’m trying not to. Any other time, any other place, I’d be knocking on her door suggesting all kinds of ways I can make it up to her for walking in on her naked. But for now, Scarlett and everything else that won’t help me get on the good side of the groom will have to wait. *** Scarlett I slump on the bed, cheeks flushing and embarrassment levels at critical as I try to calm my raging heartrate. Oh, damn it—Damn Chelsea for putting us next door to each other. And damn me for not checking to see if his door to the bathroom was locked. As if it’s not bad enough he saw me naked, why does he have to be so, so, ugh! With that incredible tattoo on his arm and his body, I can see every reason why Chelsea is trying to set us up. If I was that kind of girl, he’d be the perfect rebound and a great way to blow off steam. I flop back on the bed, frowning at the ceiling as desire starts to creep through my body. I guess I should be pleased I’m having lustful thoughts again. At least that means I’m starting to recover some of what Cal stole when he cheated. The strangest sensation starts to creep over my body as I start to think about Dexter, or Dex, and wonder whether he was standing there longer than I realized. I chew my lip and turn my head, so my ear is facing the door. The shower is still running, I could so easily go take a peep. He’s given me permission to. It’s not like I’d be doing anything wrong just by looking… I groan and place my hands over my burning face. If I really thought seeing him naked would fix this, I’d do it. But that would only lead to even more muddled feelings I’d rather not be having about Dexter or anyone else. I came here to watch my sister get married, not lust after a pilot who’s probably got more notches on his belt than I care to contemplate. I’m only half-convinced I’m making the right call when I slap some makeup on and step out of my room. It takes all my control not to stop at his door on my way down to the dining room. Mom is balancing trays of food when I spot her. “Hello, darling. We’re about to sit down to eat.” I nod and assess how stressed she looks as I follow her towards the dining room. She’s still petite, with subtle grey in her blonde hair, and blue eyes a perfect match to Chelsea’s. I take after dad’s side of the family. We’re stockier, darker, and his Italian heritage is more apparent in my olive skin tones and coffee-colored hair. She looks sidelong at me as we walk into the large dining room, complete with a bar, and a side buffet. “I don’t suppose you spotted that pilot?” My cheeks reignite and my reply comes out snappish. “No. What. Why?” My mother’s brow knits together as we walk into the dining room. “He’s joining us for lunch, dear. I made too much food and I didn’t want to waste it. No need to bite my head off.” I force a smile and hug my dad before I apologize to my mom. “Sorry. Bit tired. It’s been a busy week.” My dad frowns at me and looks me over. “Still at that same clinic?” I nod and take a seat as mom sets the table for six people. I mentally count and can only come up with Chelsea and her fiancé, mom, dad, which just leaves Dexter and me. “Where’s everyone else? I thought Uncle John and Jane were coming for lunch?” Dad leans back in his chair as he and mom share a look. “Your aunt and uncle took off for a train ride for the day.” He doesn’t need to elaborate. If everyone else arrived in West Fork last night, they’ve already suffered through a family dinner and a breakfast. It’s not surprising they want to go off and do their own thing. I would if I thought I could get away with it. Chelsea steps inside the dining room and twists her face into a frown. “Mom, I’m too busy for lunch, I need to curl my hair and do my make-up and Jill and Casey are thirty minutes away.” Mom looks slightly annoyed she’s gone to the trouble of fixing so much food. But as per usual she just sighs. “Chelsea, you still need to eat something. The wedding isn’t for four hours.” Chelsea chews her lips and looks distracted as her eyes land on me. “I will. I’ll take a plate with me and eat in my room. Come up when you’ve eaten okay? I need help with my hair.” My dad snorts as she stomps out of the room earning him a warning look from mom. “No wonder her friends aren’t here yet. She must have put a few noses out of joint not having her two best friends as bridesmaids.” Mom pulls the cling wrap off a plate of salad and takes a seat. “There’s no need for bridesmaids. The wedding is supposed to be small but elegant.” That may be the line Chelsea is spinning, but I doubt that’s why she didn’t want bridesmaids. Her two oldest friends are just as pretty as she is. She may not be getting a large extravagant wedding, but there’s no way she’d allow anyone else to steal the spotlight. “I doubt they’re complaining. They’re still getting free accommodation for the weekend. Not to mention the sightseeing flights,” Dad says. At the mention of the flights, my skin flares up again but I’m curious, so I lower my voice and direct my question to mom as she takes a seat. “So, the pilot just hangs around here? Is that awkward?” She nods and tongs some salad onto her plate while dad digs into the plate of chicken. “At first it was. But it seemed like a good solution rather than him driving back to the Academy base. He said he didn’t mind, but Chelsea and Michael insisted.” “I bet Chelsea did,” I grumble. My father sends me a look. “You know Chelsea. What she wants, she gets.” I hide my smile as my mother sends him a disapproving frown. “It’s her wedding. And she wanted to make it memorable. The photos should be breath-taking. I can see the value of having a pilot. They fly direct to Aspen with no waiting. It’s the height of luxury.” I nod vaguely and jab my fork into a piece of chicken. It is extremely extravagant to have a plane and a pilot at your beck and call. At the slight movement at the door, I snap my eyes from my father and find Dexter, looking right at me with a curious expression on his face. Heat blazes through my body as I try not to think about how he’s going to be right next door to me. My mom smiles warmly in his direction, and it’s obvious she likes him when she gestures to the seat opposite me. “I hope you brought your appetite?” Dexter smiles and takes a seat. “I did, Ma’am. Thank you for inviting me.” My dad looks set to offer him a glass of wine, but Dexter pre-empts him. “Not for me thanks. Carl. I’ll be right back to work after lunch.” My father nods sagely. “How long have you been a pilot?” Dexter glances at me before answering. “Six years. I joined the Civil Air Patrol when I was eighteen.” My father looks suitably impressed though I get the feeling he’s also digging. “That involves a lot of search and rescue training doesn’t it?” Dexter’s smile grows. “It does.” My father chews as he peppers Dexter with questions, the way he always does when he meets someone. “And now you’re at the Air Force Academy? I hear that’s tough to get into?” Dexter nods and takes a sip of the water my mom poured for him. “It’s pretty tough.” While my father engages him in conversation about his training and talks about the base and what Dexter does on a daily basis, I listen in. I’m more than a little surprised to learn he spends a lot of his time studying. My father seems to have more than a passing interest which makes me think he’s vetting him just in case. I’m half-listening, trying to stop myself from getting invested in a man who I won’t see again after tomorrow when my mom’s voice penetrates the conversation. “You’re working towards your master’s in aerospace engineering?” Dexter takes a bite before nodding. “That’s the plan.” I’m so shocked; my jaw must be hanging open. He’s smart, can fly a plane, and he looks like that? The tiniest of groans slips out of my mouth causing him to look in my direction. His lip curls into a panty-melting smile and my entire body starts to tingle as I start to think about how lacking my sex life has been. I have to dig my nail into my thumb to keep from gawking at him. Dexter is polite, respectful even, but he barely looks at me. He just eats his food, only speaking when spoken to, like he’s afraid of relaxing. He’s too controlled, too careful. Nothing like the flirt I was drooling over upstairs. The more I watch him, the more I think I understand why he’s sitting at this table with us. As he converses with my parents, I find it almost impossible not to stare at the man seated across from me. Despite my lingering headache, I accept the wine my father pours for me and sip it steadily through lunch. On more than one occasion, when I sneak a look at Dexter, I find him working his jaw and tapping his fingers on the table. By the time I’ve drunk my glass of wine, I’m almost entirely convinced he’s here under duress. But that’s not the only thing I’m thinking about. I’m wondering what would have happened if I’d stayed to watch him strip off. I’m wondering if he’s capable of a little more than the other men I’ve been with. Since I’d rather not hang around lusting after him, I finish my lunch and push back from the table. “I think I’ll go see if Chelsea needs anything,” I say. Mom nods and looks a little relieved. “Thanks, darling. I have a lot to arrange myself. I need to go pick up the flowers, and dad and I need to go meet with Michael’s parents again.” I smile, keeping my eyes away from Dexter as I leave the room. A little woozy from the wine, I take the stairs and decide not to drink anything else less it further impedes my already hazy judgment. I reach Chelsea’s room and knock on the door. “Chelsea? Can I come in?” When no one answers, I open the door and poke my head inside. The room is a mess, clothing scattered everywhere, a bottle of half dunk champagne is on the side table, and a packed bag I assume for the honeymoon. I stand in the doorway, wondering where Chelsea got to when I hear a noise coming from the bathroom. “Chelsea? I thought I’d see if you needed any help?” Her head pokes through the door and I’m alarmed to see tears streaming down her face. “What’s wrong?” She steps through the door; her fingers clutched around her cell and her lip quivering. “It’s Michael.” When she bursts into tears and throws her arms around me, I’m sure she's being overly dramatic. “Did you have a fight?” She just sobs harder. Rather than tell her to calm down, I wriggle out of her grip and hold her at arm's length. “Take a deep breath then tell me what’s wrong.” I wait until she takes a shuddering breath and wipes at her eyes. Her voice is strangled by a sob when she replies. “Nathan, his dad, just called asking me if I knew where he was.” She sniffs again and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. I grab a box of tissues from her nightstand then take a seat beside her. “I don’t understand. Weren’t you just with him?” She nods. “We went for a drive to this old mine he wanted to see. He dropped me off here. But that was two hours ago. He should have been back at the hotel by now.” Two hours ago? I frown at her. “He dropped you off here? What were you doing all this time?” Was she up here? I’m sure I heard her come in through the front door. She won’t meet my eye but starts to fidget. “I just needed to take a walk by myself. That’s all.” That seems about as likely as her changing her mind about bridesmaids. Chelsea doesn’t like being alone. She thrives on attention. The more people around the more she gets. While I’m running through the possible scenarios to explain Michael’s absence, she’s growing increasingly agitated. Her voice is high when she looks sidelong at me. “The ceremony is in three hours. What if he doesn’t get back in time?” I exhale slowly and try not to dwell on what she was doing when I was eating an awkward lunch with Dexter and my parents. “I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. But just in case, I’ll see if I can find him. Any other places he might have gone?”