Camile
Matthew chooses a secluded dive bar, one I don"t even recognize. I shrug my shoulders, not really caring if anyone sees me or not. But maybe he does? I can’t imagine why.
“Hello,” he says, offering me his barstool. “I’m glad you called.” He flashes a boyish grin that makes me feel warm in the center of somewhere. It’s too early to tell the extent of my attraction. All I know is that Matthew"s cute in a classic, all-American kind of way. He"s sweet and sincere. Maybe too sincere.
tooBut what he is not, is stupid.
not,The drink order has come and gone, and I can sense his suspicion that I"m only here to discuss the investigation. But that"s not the only reason. There"s something else driving me. A desire I have to do something risky. Like I said, we all have our blind spots.
Befo
