“A quick preview?”

I stood. “Really not ready to talk about it. Still processing.”

He regarded me across the few feet between us as if it was a half a mile, then patted the seat beside him. “Come sit for a minute.”

“I need . . . we need to get over there . . .”

“A minute. Please?”

I didn’t sit, but I didn’t leave either. Had he really said jealous?

“You’re mad at me. Or something.”

“I’m . . .” I couldn’t say what I was, but it wasn’t angry.

“You are, and I don’t know why.” He leaned forward, forearms on his knees, the torchlight bright on his weary, soot-smudged face. “I thought . . . tell me if I’m wrong . . . I thought we were kind of working on something, you and me. What happened?”

Nothing and everything. The past and present. “My fault for showing up where I’m not wanted.”

“Who said not wanted?”

I took a diving-deep sort of breath. “Anytime I come by, you yell at me to leave.”

“You mean, at the Souk? With your perfect pitch for arriving just as a crisis boils up?”

I chewed my lip. My timing had not been stellar.

More quietly, he said, “I miss how you look at me.”

“How I what?”

He sat back, folded his arms. “Well, if nothing else, with a bit of interest. With . . . hope? Maybe even trust? Now I’m getting the cold shoulder.”

“From the crazy den girl who won’t leave you be?” I blurted.

He rolled his head back. “Never said that! Just Julie making trouble.”

“Why would he?”

“It’s his game of choice.”

I could see that, actually.

“By my best recall, I said, ‘Got a girl here who needs a lift out before she gets herself killed.’ ” He looked at me. “Do we have that sorted out?”

I shrugged. This was how he’d smooth over a rough afternoon, salvage a friendship. He was a friendly guy, after all—at least, on the surface. I crouched on the gunwale. “I got a bunch of surprises today. It’s a lot to deal with.”

“Anything to do with me?”

“Some.”

“Ah.” He considered this. “Okay, name one.”

This was confrontation, and I was bad at it. “I don’t . . . I really should get . . .”

“What? What is it? How can I fix it if I don’t know the problem? Uh-oh, there’s that stare again. Like you’ve never seen me before in your life.”

A particularly raucous chain of catcalls and laughter tumbled across the water from Unca Joe as a clot of revelers spilled out onto the walkway. Soon the other dens would be heading home. The dark, lantern-studded marina would churn with boats starting up, with parting jokes and safe-home farewells.

Daniel leaned forward to be heard over the ruckus. “Glim, I could have brought this boat to any other den in the city for its opening gig. Why did I choose Unca Joe?”