Deven paused. The rhetorical question was like a blast from the past and she was suddenly engulfed in nostalgia. For a moment, she was catapulted back to her senior year of jersey dresses, pep rallies, Homecoming, and ditching class. And she didn’t have one memory that year that didn’t include Kennedy, and Kennedy’s best friend.

“Benji?” Deven sank to the couch.

“Yeah, ma. It’s me.”

A series of emotions hit her at once. Surprise, confusion, fear . . . He could only be calling for one thing. The two weren’t more than associates, joined by their mutual relationship with her sister. So Deven hadn’t stayed in touch with him after high school. But she knew he was still in the picture because Kennedy spoke of him often. Last she heard, he had moved to Atlanta. So, this impromptu phone call certainly wasn’t without cause.

“Hey,” she said. “This is a surprise. How have you been, Benji?”

“I’ve been good. Listen,” he started, skipping through the pleasantries. “I know this sounds strange, but I wanted to see if you could meet me.”

Deven licked her lips moist and struggled to ignore the slam of each agonizing heartbeat against her tightened chest. “Uh, sure. When?”

“This afternoon. My flight lands at one.”

He was flying into town. Why? What did he know? “Okay,” she agreed. Then, she felt compelled to ask, “Is this about Kennedy—”

“I’ll call you when I get there and we can arrange to meet,” Benji interrupted. His voice was drowned out by his background all of a sudden. “I’ll see you in a bit.” And he hung up.

Deven placed her phone on the glass coffee table and collapsed in the cushions. Five hours. Five hours until Benji’s plane arrived, and they could meet to discuss something she knew had everything to do with her sister. So much for even attempting to sleep now.

Thanks to Kennedy, Deven knew she and Benji shared their thirst for luxury and the finer things in life. So, when he texted an address on the waterfront at exactly 1:27, she expected a fine dining restaurant with white, linen cloths and menus with gourmet dishes and no prices. The GPS navigating her to the pier with a row of food stands was certainly not what she would have thought him to suggest.

Her jacket had been sufficient when she left the house. Now, thanks to the moisture wafting from the water backdrop, the temperature had dropped, and Deven shivered in the flimsy material. Her face was nearly numb with the cold and her breath billowed out to disappear in the damp air. Why the hell had he wanted to meet outside anyway?